L 


DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 


Zoraida  Castelmar,  daughter  of  the  Montezumas 


DAUGHTER  OF 

THE  SUN 

A  TALE  OF  ADVENTURE 


BY 

JACKSON  GREGORY 

(QuiSn  Sabe) 


AUTHOR  OF 

TIMBER  WOLF, 

THE  EVERLASTING  WHISPER, 
DESERT  VALLEY,  ETC. 


GROSSET   &    DUN  LAP 

PUBLISHERS  UEW'YORK 

M«t«  b  UK  United  Sub>  of  America 


COPYRIGHT,  1921,  BY 
CHARLES  »SCRIBNER'  S  SONS 

•Copyright  as '« The  Treasure  of  the  Hills,"  1920, 1921.  by  Street  &  Smith 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO 
ZINGARA 


M867922 


fc  I 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

I.  IN  WHICH  A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  KNOWN  AS  "HEAD- 
LONG" PLAYS  AT  DICE  WITH  ONE  IN  MAN'S 
CLOTHING  WHO  is  NOT  A  MAN I 

H.    IN  WHICH  A  SPELL  is  WORKED  AND  AN  EXPEDITION 

is  BEGUN 21 

III.  OF  THE  NEW  MOON,  A  TALE  OF  AZTEC  TREASURE 

AND  A  MYSTERY     ........    ....    a    ..      36 

IV.  INDICATING    THAT    THAT    WHICH    APPEARS    THE 

EARTHLY  PARADISE  MAY  PROVE  QUITE  ANOTHER 
SORT  OF  PLACE 49 

Vi.  How  ONE  Nor  ACCUSTOMED  TO  TAKING  ANOTHER 
MAN'S  ORDERS  RECEIVES  THE  COMMAND  OF  THE 
QUEEN  LADY  ........  t..  .  .  59 

VI.    CONCERNING  THAT  WHICH  LAY  IN  THE  EYES  OF 

ZORAIDA 67 

VII.    OF  A  GIRL  HELD  FOR  RANSOM  AND  OF  A  TOAST 

DRUNK  BY  ONE  INFATUATED     .     ••   •••    M   •    •      8r 

VIII.    How  A  MAN  MAY  CARRY  A  MESSAGE  AND  Nor 

KNOW  HIMSELF  TO  BE  A  MESSENGER    ....      91 

IX.    WHICH  BEGINS  WITH  A  LITTLE  SONG  AND  ENDS 

WITH  TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS    .    .    :«    »•.    .    102 

X.    IN  WHICH  A  MAN  KEEPS  His  WORD  AND  ZORAIDA 

DARES  AND  LAUGHS *    .     117 

XI,    IN  WHICH  THERE  is  MORE  THAN  ONE  LIB  Tori) 

AND  THE  TRUTH  is  GLIMPSED    .     .     .    »    «    >     130 

XIL   IN  WHICH  AN  OVERTURE  is  MADE,  AN  ANSWER  is 

POSTPONED  AND  A  DOOR  is  LOCKED   .     .    «   «    .     145 
vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XIII.  CONCERNING  WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY   .    .    153 

XIV.  CONCERNING  A  DIFFICULT  SITUATION,  RECKLESSLY 

INVITED M   •    •    A    i7& 

XV.    OF  THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  OF  THE  GOLDEN  TEZCU- 

CAN    .     :..      .     „-     w      .mt. ISO 

XVI.    How    Two,    IN     THE    LABYRINTH    OF    MIRRORS, 

WATCHED  DISTANT  HAPPENINGS 196 

XVII.    How   ONE  WHO   HAS    EVER   COMMANDED   MUST 

LEARN  TO   OBEY 210 

XVIII.    OF  FLIGHT,  PURSUIT  AND  A  LAIR  IN  THE  CLIFFS    .    221 

XIX.    How  ONE  WHO  HIDES  AND  WATCHES  MAY  BE 

WATCHED  BY  ONE  HIDDEN     ...    ^    ...     233 

XX.    IN  WHICH  A  ROCK  MOVES,  A  DISCOVERY  is  MADE 

AND   MORE  THAN   ONE  AVENUE  IS   OPENED      .       .      24! 

XXI.    How  ONE  RETURNS   UNWILLINGLY  WHITHER  HE 

WOULD  WILLINGLY  ENTER  BY  ANOTHER  DOOR    .     256 

XXII.    REGARDING  A  NECKLACE  OF  PEARLS  AND  CERTAIN 

PLANS  OF  Two  WHO  WERE  MEANT  TO  BE  ONE    .    263 


DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 


DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 


CHAPTER  I 

IN  WHICH  A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  KNOWN  AS 

"HEADLONG"  PLAYS  AT  DICE  WITH 

ONE  IN  MAN'S  CLOTHING  WHO 

IS  NOT  A  MAN 

JIM  KENDRIC  had  arrived  and  the  border  town  knew 
it  well.  All  who  knew  the  man  foresaw  that  he  would 
come  with  a  rush,  tarry  briefly  for  a  bit  of  wild  joy 
and  leave  with  a  rush  for  the  Lord  knew  where  and 
the  Lord  knew  why.  For  such  was  ever  the  way  of 
Jim  Kendric. 

A  letter  at  the  postoffice  had  been  the  means  of 
advising  the  entire  community  of  the  coming  of 
Kendric.  The  letter  was  from  Bruce  West,  down  in 
Lower  California,  and  scrawled  across  the  flap  were 
instructions  to  the  postmaster  to  hold  it  for  Jim 
Kendric  who  would  arrive  within  a  couple  of  weeks. 
Furthermore  the  word  URGENT  was  not  to  be  over- 
looked. 

Among  the  men  drawn  together  in  hourly  expecta- 
tion of  the  arrival  of  Kendric,  one  remarked  thought- 
fully: 

"Ji^s  Mex  friend  is  in  town." 

"Ruiz  Rios?"  someone  asked,  a  man  from  the  out- 
side. 


2  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Been  here  three  days.  Just  sticking  around  and 
doing  nothing  but  smoke  cigarettes.  Looks  like  he 
was  waiting." 

"What  for?" 

"Waiting  for  Jim,  maybe?"  was  suggested. 

Two  or  three  laughed  at  that.  In  their  estimation 
Ruiz  Rios  might  be  the  man  to  knife  his  way  out  of 
a  hole,  but  not  one  to  go  out  of  his  way  to  cross  the 
trail  made  wide  and  recklessly  by  Jim  Kendric. 

"A  half  hour  ago,"  came  the  supplementary  infor- 
mation from  another  quarter,  "a  big  automobile  going 
to  beat  the  Band  pulls  up  in  front  of  the  hotel.  The 
Mex  is  watching  and  when  a  woman  climbs  down  he 
grabs  her  traps  and  steers  her  into  the  hotel." 

Immediately  this  news  bringer  was  the  man  of  the 
moment.  But  he  had  had  scant  time  to  admit  that  he 
hadn't  seen  her  face,  that  she  had  worn  a  thick  black 
veil,  that  somehow  she  just  seemed  young  and  that  he'd 
bet  she  was  too  darn  pretty  to  be  wasting  herself  on 
Rios,  when  Jim  Kendric  himself  landed  in  their  midst. 

He  was  powdered  with  alkali  dust  from  the  soles 
of  his  boots  to  the  crown  of  his  black  hat  and  he 
looked  unusually  tall  because  he  was  unusually  gaunt. 
He  had  ridden  far  and  hard.  But  the  eyes  were  the 
same  old  eyes  of  the  same  old  headlong  Jim  Kendric, 
on  fire  on  the  instant,  dancing  with  the  joy  of  striking 
hands  with  the  old-timers,  shining  with  the  man's  su- 
preme joy  of  life. 

"I'm  no  drinking  man  and  you  know  it,"  he  shouted 
at  them,  his  voice  booming  out  and  down  the  quiet 
blistering  street.  "And  I'm  no  gambling  man.  I'm 
steady  and  sober  and  I'm  a  regular  fool  for  conserv- 
ative investments!  But  there's  a  time  when  a  glass 
in  the  hand  is  as  pat  as  eggs  in  a  hen's  nest  and  a. 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE      3 

man  wants  to  spend  his  money  free!  Come  on,  you 
bunch  of  devil-hounds ;  lead  me  to  it." 

It  was  the  rollicking  arrival  which  they  had  counted 
on  since  this  was  the  only  way  Jim  Kendric  knew  of 
getting  back  among  old  friends  and  old  surroundings. 
There  was  nothing  subtle  about  him;  in  all  things  he 
was  open  and  forthright  and  tempestuous.  In  a  man's 
hardened  and  buffeted  body  he  had  kept  the  heart  of  a 
harum-scarum  boy. 

"It's  only  a  step  across  the  line  into  Old  Town,"  he 
reminded  them.  "And  the  Mexico  gents  over  there 
haven't  got  started  reforming  yet.  Blaze  the  trail, 
Benny.  Shut  up  your  damned  old  store  and  post- 
office,  Homer,  and  trot  along.  It's  close  to  sunset  any 
way ;  I'll  finance  the  pilgrimage  until  sunup." 

When  he  mentioned  the  "postoffice"  Homer  Day  was 
recalled  to  his  official  duties  as  postmaster.  He  gave 
Kendric  the  letter  from  Bruce  West.  Kendric  ripped 
open  the  envelope,  glanced  at  the  contents,  skimming 
the  lines  impatiently.  Then  he  jammed  the  letter  into 
his  pocket. 

"Just  as  I  supposed/'  he  announced.  "Bruce  has 
a  sure  thing  in  the  way  of  the  best  cattle  range  you 
ever  saw;  he'll  make  money  hand  over  fist.  But,"  and 
he  chuckled  his  enjoyment,  "he's  just  a  trifle  too  busy 
scaring  off  Mexican  bandits  and  close-herding  his  stock 
to  get  any  sleep  of  nights.  Drop  him  a  postcard, 
Homer;  tell  him  I  can't  come.  Let's  step  over  to  Old 
Town." 

"Ruiz  Rios  is  in  town,  Jim,"  he  was  informed. 

"I  know,"  he  retorted  lightly.  "But  I'm  not  shooting 
trouble  nowadays.  Getting  older,  you  know." 

"How'd  you  know?"  asked  Homer. 

"Bruce  said  so  in  his  letter;  Rios  is  a  neighbor  down 


%  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

in  Lower  California.  Now,  forget  Ruiz  Rios.  LeVs 
start  something." 

There  were  six  Americans  in  the  little  party  by  the 
time  they  had  walked  the  brief  distance  to  the  border 
and  across  into  Old  Town.  Before  they  reached  the 
swing  doors  of  the  Casa  Grande  the  red  ball  of  the 
sun  went  down. 

"Fat  Ortega  knows  you're  coming,  Jim,"  Kendric 
was  advised.  "I  guess  everybody  in  town  knows  by 
now." 

And  plainly  everybody  was  interested.  When  the 
six  men,  going  in  two  by  two,  snapped  back  the  swing- 
ing doors  there  were  a  score  of  men  in  the  place.  Be- 
hind the  long  bar  running  along  one  side  of  the  big 
room  two  men  were  busy  setting  forth  bottles  and 
glasses.  The  air  was  hazy  with  cigarette  smoke.  There 
was  a  business  air,  an  air  of  readiness  and  expectancy 
about  the  gaming  tables  though  no  one  at  this  early 
hour  had  suggested  playing.  Ortega  himself,  fat  and 
greasy  and  pompous,  leaned  against  his  bar  and  twisted 
a  stogie  between  his  puffy,  pendulous  lips.  He  merely 
batted  his  eyes  at  Kendric,  who  noticed  him  not  at  all. 

A  golden  twenty  dollar  coin  spun  and  winked  upon 
the  bar  impelled  by  Jim's  big  fingers  and  Kendric's 
voice  called  heartily : 

"I'd  be  happy  to  have  every  man  here  drink  with 


me." 


The  invitation  was  naturally  accepted.  The  men 
ranged  along  the  bar,  elbow  to  elbow;  the  bartenders 
served  and,  with  a  nod  toward  the  man  who  stood 
treat,  poured  their  own  red  wine.  Even  Ortega,  though 
he  made  no  attempt  toward  a  civil  response,  drank. 
The  more  liquor  poured  into  a  man's  stomach  here,  the 
more  money  in  Ortega's  pocket  and  he  was  avaricious. 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE       5 

He'd  drink  in  his  own  shop  with  his  worst  enemy  pro- 
vided that  enemy  paid  the  score. 

Kendric's  friends  were  men  who  were  always  glad 
to  drink  and  play  a  game  of  cards,  but  tonight  they 
were  gladder  for  the  chance  to  talk  with  "Old  Head- 
long." When  he  had  bought  the  house  a  couple  of 
rounds  of  drinks,  Kendric  withdrew  to  a  corner  table 
with  a  dozen  of  his  old-time  acquaintances  and  for 
upward  of  an  hour  they  sat  and  found  much  to  talk 
of.  He  had  his  own  experiences  to  recount  and  sketched 
them  swiftly,  telling  of  a  venture  in  a  new  silver  min- 
ing country  and  a  certain  profit  made;  of  a  "misunder- 
standing," as  he  mirthfully  explained  it,  now  and  then, 
with  the  children  of  the  South;  of  horse  swapping  and 
a  taste  of  the  pearl  fisheries  of  La  Paz ;  of  no  end  of 
adventures  such  as  men  of  his  class  and  nationality 
find  every  day  in  troublous  Mexico.  Twisty  Barlow, 
an  old-time  friend  with  whom  once  he  had  gone  ad- 
venturing in  Peru,  a  man  who  had  been  deep  sea  sailor 
and  near  pirate,  real  estate  juggler,  miner,  trapper  and 
mule  skinner,  sat  at  his  elbow,  put  many  an  incisive 
question,  had  many  a  yarn  of  his  own  to  spin. 

"Headlong,  old  mate/'  said  Twisty  Barlow  once, 
laying  his  knotty  hand  on  Kendric's  arm,  "by  the  livin' 
Gawd  that  made  us,  I'd  like  to  go  a-journeyin'  with 
the  likes  of  you  again.  And  I  know  the  land  that's 
waitin'  for  the  pair  of  us.  Into  San  Diego  we  go  and 
there  we  take  a  certain  warped  and  battered  old  stem- 
twister  the  owner  calls  a  schooner.  And  we  beat  it 
out  into  the  Pacific  and  turn  south  until  we  come  to  a 
certain  land  maybe  you  can  remember  having  heard 

me  tell  about.  And  there It's  there,  Headlong, 

old  mate!" 

Kendric's  eyes  shone  while  Barlow  spoke,  but  then 
they  always  shone  when  a  man  hinted  of  such  things 


6  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

as  he  knew  lay  in  the  sailorman's  mind  But  at  the 
end  he  shook  his  head. 

"You're  talking  about  tomorrow  or  next  day, 
Twisty,"  he  laughed,  filling  his  deep  lungs  contentedly. 
"I've  had  a  bellyful  of  mafiana-talk  here  of  late.  All 
I'm  interested  in  is  tonight"  He  rattled  some  loose 
coins  in  his  pocket.  "I've  got  money  in  my  pocket, 
man!"  he  cried,  jumping  to  his  feet  "Come  ahead. 
I  stake  every  man  jack  of  you  to  ten  dollars  and  any 
man  who  wins  treats  the  house." 

Meanwhile  Ortega's  place  had  been  doing  an  in- 
creasing business.  Now  there  was  desultory  playing 
at  several  tables  where  men  were  placing  their  bets  at 
poker,  at  seven-and-a-half  and  at  roulette;  the  faro  lay- 
out would  be  offering  its  invitation  in  a  moment ;  there 
was  a  game  of  dice  in  progress. 

Kendric's  companions  moved  about  from  table  to 
table  laughing,  making  small  bets  or  merely  watching. 
But  presently  as  half  dollars  were  won  and  lost  the 
insidious  charm  of  hazard  touched  them.  Monte  stuck 
fast  to  the  faro  table  for  fifteen  minutes,  at  the  erd  of 
which  time  he  rose  with  a  sigh,  tempted  to  go  back  to 
Kendric  for  a  "real  stake"  and  cut  in  for  a  man's 
play.  But  he  thought  better  of  it  and  strolled  away, 
rolling  a  cigarette  and  watching  the  others.  Jerry 
bought  a  ten  dollar  stack  of  chips  and  assayed  his 
fortune  with  roulette,  playing  his  usual  luck  and  his 
usual  system ;  with  every  hazard  lost  he  lost  his  temper 
and  doubled  his  bet  He  was  the  first  man  to  join 
Monte, 

For  upward  of  an  hour  of  play  Kendric  was  content 
with  looking  on  and  had  not  hazarded  a  cent  beyond 
the  money  flung  down  on  the  table  to  be  played  by  his 
friends.  But  now  at  last  he  looked  about  the  room 
eagerly,  his  head  up,  his  eyes  blazing  with  the  up-surge 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE       7 

of  the  spirit  riding  him.  About  his  middle  was  a 
money  belt,  safely  brought  back  across  the  border;  in 
his  wild  heart  was  the  imperative  desire  to  play.  Play 
high  and  quick  and  hard.  It  was  then  that  for  the 
first  time  he  noted  Ruiz  Rios.  Evidently  the  Mexican 
had  just  now  entered  from  the  rear.  At  the  far  end 
of  the  room  where  the  kerosene  lamp  light  was  none 
too  good  Rios  was  standing  with  a  solitary  slim- 
bodied  companion.  The  companion,  to  call  for  all 
due  consideration  later,  barely  caught  Jim's  roving 
eye  now;  he  saw  Rios  and  he  told  himself  that  the 
gamblers'  goddess  had  whisked  him  in  at  the  magic 
moment.  For  in  one  essential,  as  in  no  others,  was 
Ruiz  Rios  a  man  after  Jim  Kendric's  own  heart :  the 
Mexican  was  a  man  to  play  for  any  stake  and  do  no 
moralizing  over  the  result. 

"Ortega,"  cried  Kendric,  looking  all  the  time  chal- 
lengingly  at  Rios,  "there  is  only  one  game  worth  the 
playing.  King  of  games?  The  emperor  of  games! 
Have  you  a  man  here  to  shake  dice  with  me?" 

Ortega  understood  and  made  no  answer.  Rios, 
small  and  sinister  and  handsome,  his  air  one  of  eternal 
well-bred  insolence,  kept  his  own  counsel.  There  came 
a  quick  tug  at  his  sleeve ;  his  companion  whispered  in 
his  ear.  Thus  it  was  that  for  the  first  time  Kendric 
really  looked  at  this  companion.  And  at  the  first  keen 
glance,  in  spite  of  the  male  attire,  the  loose  coat  and  hat 
pulled  low,  the  scarf  worn  high  about  the  neck,  he 
knew  that  it  was  a  woman  who  had  entered  with  Ruiz 
Rios  and  now  whispered  to  him. 

"His  wife,"  thought  Kendric.  "Telling  him  not 
to  play.  She's  got  her  nerve  coming  in  here." 

The  question  of  her  relationship  to  the  Mexican 
was  open  to  speculation;  the  matter  of  her  nerve  was 
not  That  was  definitely  settled  by  the  carriage  of 


8  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

her  body  which  was  at  once  defiant  and  imperious ;  by 
the  tilt  of  the  chin,  barely  glimpsed;  by  the  way  she 
stood  her  ground  as  one  after  another  pair  of  eyes 
turned  upon  her  until  every  man  in  the  room  stared 
openly.  It  was  as  useless  for  her  to  seek  to  disguise 
her  sex  thus  as  it  would  be  for  the  moon  to  mask  as 
a  candle.  And  she  knew  it  and  did  not  care.  Kendric 
understood  that  on  the  moment. 

"Between  us  there  has  been  at  times  trouble,  sefior," 
said  Rios  lightly.  "I  do  not  know  if  you  care  to  play? 
If  so,  I  will  be  most  pleased  for  a  little  game." 

"I'd  shake  dice  with  the  devil  himself,  friend  Ruiz," 
answered  Jim  heartily. 

"I  must  have  some  money  from  Ortega  here,"  said 
Rios  carelessly.  "Unless  my  check  will  satisfy?" 

"Better  get  the  money,"  returned  Kendric  pleas- 
antly. 

As  Rios  turned  away  with  the  proprietor  Kendric 
was  impelled  to  look  again  toward  the  woman.  She 
had  moved  a  little  to  one  side  so  that  now  she  stood 
in  the  shadow  cast  by  an  angle  of  the  wall.  He  could 
not  see  her  eyes,  so  low  had  she  drawn  her  wide 
sombrero,  nor  could  he  make  out  much  of  her  face. 
He  had  an  impression  of  an  oval  line  curving  softly 
into  the  folds  of  her  scarf;  of  masses  of  black  hair. 
But  one  thing  he  knew :  she  was  looking  steadily  at 
him.  It  did  not  matter  that  he  could  not  see  her  eyes ; 
he  could  feel  them.  Under  that  hidden  gaze  there 
was  a  moment  during  which  he  was  oddly  stirred, 
vaguely  agitated.  It  was  as  though  she,  some  strange 
woman,  were  striving  to  subject  his  mind  to  the  spell 
of  her  own  will;  as  though  across  the  room  she  were 
seeking  not  only  to  read  his  thought  but  to  mold  it 
to  the  shape  of  her  own  thought.  He  had  the  uncanny 
-sensation  that  her  mind  was  rifling  his,  that  it  would 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE      9 

be  hard  to  hide  from  those  probing  mental  fingers  any 
slightest  desire  or  intention.  Kendric  shook  himself 
savagely,  angered  that  even  for  an  instant  he  should 
have  submitted  to  such  sickish  fancies.  But  even  so, 
and  while  he  strode  to  the  nearby  table  for  the  dice 
cup,  he  could  not  free  himself  from  the  impression 
which  she  had  laid  upon  him. 

She  beckoned  Rios  as  he  came  back  with  Ortega. 
He  went  to  her  side  and  she  whispered  to  him. 

"We  will  play  here,  at  this  end  of  the  room,  sefior," 
Rios  said  to  Kendric. 

As  Kendric  looked  quite  naturally  from  the  one 
who  spoke  to  the  one  from  whom  so  obviously  the 
order  had  come,  he  saw  for  the  first  time  the  gleam 
of  the  woman's  eyes.  A  very  little  she  had  lifted  the 
brim  of  her  hat  so  that  from  beneath  she  could  watch 
what  went  forward.  They  held  his  gaze  riveted;  they 
seemed  to  glow  in  the  shadows  as  though  with  some 
inner  light.  He  could  not  judge  their  color;  they  were 
mere  luminous  pools.  He  started  with  an  odd  fancy; 
he  caught  himself  wondering  if  those  eyes  could  see 
in  the  dark  ? 

Again  he  shrugged  as  though  to  shake  physically 
from  him  these  strange  fancies.  He  snatched  up  the 
little  table  and  brought  it  to  where  Ruiz  Rios  waited, 
putting  it  down  not  three  feet  from  the  Mexican's 
silent  companion.  And  all  the  time,  though  now  he 
refused  to  turn  his  head  toward  her,  he  was  conscious 
of  the  strangely  disturbing  certainty  that  those  lumin- 
ous eyes  were  regarding  him  with  unshifting  intensity. 

Kendric  abruptly  spilled  the  dice  out  of  the  cup  so 
that  they  rolled  on  the  table  top. 

"One  die,  one  throw,  ace  high?"  he  asked  curtly 
of  Rios. 

The  Mexican  nodded. 


io  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

It  was  in  the  air  that  there  would  be  big  play,  and 
men  crowded  around.  Briefly,  the  unusual  presence  of 
a  woman,  here  at  Fat  Ortega's,  was  forgotten. 

"Select  the  lucky  cube,"  Kendric  invited  Rios.  The 
%lexican's  slim  brown  fingers  drew  one  of  the  dice 
toward  him,  choosing  at  random. 

Kendric  opened  vest  and  shirt  and  after  a  moment 
of  fumbling  drew  forth  and  slammed  down  on  the 
table  a  money  belt  that  bulged  and  struck  like  a 
leaden  bar. 

"Gold  and  U.  S.  bank  notes,"  he  announced.  "Keep 
your  eye  on  me,  Sefior  Don  Ruiz  Rios  de  Mexico, 
while  I  count  'em." 

Unbuttoning  the  pocket  flaps,  he  began  pouring  forth 
the  treasure  which  he  had  brought  back  with  him  after 
two  years  in  Old  Mexico.  Boyish  and  gleeful,  he 
enjoyed  the  expressions  that  came  upon  the  faces 
about  him  as  he  counted  aloud  and  Rios  watched  with 
narrow,  suspicious  eyes.  He  sorted  the  gold,  ar- 
ranging in  piles  of  twenties  and  tens,  all  American 
minted;  he  smoothed  out  the  bank  notes  and  stacked 
them.  And  at  the  end,  looking  up  smilingly,  he  an- 
nounced : 

"An  even  ten  thousand  dollars,  senor." 

"You  damn  fool!"  cried  out  Twisty  Barlow 
hysterically.  "Why,  man,  with  that  pile  me  an'  you 
could  sail  back  into  San  Diego  like  kings !  Now  that 
dago  will  pick  you  clean  an'  you  know  it." 

No  one  paid  any  attention  to  Barlow  and  he,  after 
that  one  involuntary  outburst,  recognized  himself  for 
the  fool  and  kept  his  mouth  shut,  though  with  diffi- 
culty. 

Ruiz  Rios's  dark  face  was  almost  Oriental  in  its 
immobility.  He  did  not  even  look  interested.  He 
merely  considered  after  a  dreamy,  abstracted  fashion. 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE     n 

Again  a  quick  eager  hand  was  laid  on  his  arm,  again 
his  companion  whispered  in  his  ear.  Rios  nodded 
curtly  and  turned  to  Ortega. 

"Have  you  the  money  in  the  house?"  he  demanded. 

"Seguro"  said  the  gambling  house  owner.  "I  ex- 
pected Senor  Kendric." 

"You  do  me  proud/'  laughed  Jim.  "Let's  see  the 
color  of  it  in  American  money." 

With  most  men  the  winning  or  losing  of  ten  thou- 
sand dollars,  though  they  played  heavily,  was  a  mat- 
ter of  hours  and  might  run  on  into  days  if  luck  varied 
tantalizingly.  All  of  the  zest  of  those  battling  hours 
Jim  Kendric  meant  to  crowd  into  one  moment.  There 
was  much  of  love  in  the  heart  of  Headlong  Jim  Ken- 
dric, but  it  was  a  love  which  had  never  poured  itself 
through  the  common  channels,  never  identified  itself 
with  those  two  passions  which  sway  most  men :  he  had 
never  known  love  for  a  woman  and  in  him  there  was 
no  money-greed.  For  him  women  did  not  come  even 
upon  the  rim  of  his  most  distant  horizon;  as  for 
money,  when  he  had  none  of  it  he  sallied  forth  joy- 
ously in  its  quest  holding  that  there  was  plenty  of  it 
in  this  good  old  world  and  that  it  was  as  rare  fun 
running  it  down  as  hunting  any  other  big  game.  When 
he  had  plenty  of  it  he  had  no  thought  of  other  matters 
until  he  had  spent  it  or  given  it  away  or  watched  it 
go  its  merry  way  across  a  table  with  a  green  top  like 
a  fleet  of  golden  argosies  on  a  fair  emerald  sea  voyag- 
ing in  search  of  a  port  of  adventure.  His  love  was 
reserved  for  his  friends  and  for  his  adventurings,  for 
clear  dawns  in  solitary  mountains,  for  spring-times  in 
thick  woods,  for  sweeps  of  desert,  for  what  he  would 
have  called  "Life." 

"Ready?"  Ruiz  Rios  was  asking  coldly.    Ortega  had 


12  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

returned  with  a  drawer  from  his  safe  clasped  in  his 
fat  hands ;  the  money  was  counted  and  piled. 

"Let  her  roll,"  cried  Kendric  heartily. 

Never  had  there  been  a  game  like  this  at  Ortega's. 
Men  packed  closer  and  closer,  pushing  and  crowding. 
The  Mexican  slowly  rattled  the  single  die  in  the  cup. 
Then,  with  a  quick  jerk  of  the  wrist,  he  turned  it 
out  on  the  table.  It  rolled,  poised,  settled.  The  re- 
sult amply  satisfied  Rios  and  to  the  line  of  the  lips 
under  his  small  black  mustache  came  the  hint  of  a 
smile;  he  had  turned  up  a  six. 

'The  ace  is  high!"  cried  Jim.  He  caught  up  die 
and  box,  lifting  the  cupped  cube  high  above  his  head. 
His  eyes  were  bright  with  excitement,  his  cheeks 
were  flushed,  his  voice  rang  out  eagerly. 

"Out  of  six  numbers  there  is  only  one  ace,"  smiled 
Ruiz  Rios. 

"One's  all  I  want,  senor,"  laughed  Jim.  And  made 
his  throw. 

When  large  ventures  are  made,  in  money  or  other- 
wise, it  would  seem  that  the  goddess  of  chance  is  no 
myth  but  a  potent  spirit  and  that  she  takes  a  firm 
deciding  hand.  At  a  time  like  this,  when  two  men 
seek  to  put  at  naught  her  many  methods  of  prolong- 
ing suspense,  she  in  turn  seeks  stubbornly  to  put  at 
naught  their  endeavors  to  defeat  her  aims.  Had  Jim 
Kendrick  thrown  the  ace  then  he  would  have  won  and 
the  thing  would  have  been  ended ;  had  he  shaken  any- 
thing less  than  a  six  the  spoils  would  have  been  the 
Mexican's.  That  which  happened  was  that  out  of 
the  gambler's  cup  Kendric  turned  another  six. 

Ruiz  Rios's  impassive  face  masked  all  emotion; 
Kendric's  displayed  frankly  his  sheer  delight.  He  was 
playing  his  game ;  he  was  getting  his  fun. 

"A  tie,  by  thunder !"  he  cried  out  in  huge  enjoyment. 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE     13 

"We're  getting  a  run  for  our  money,  Mexico.     Shall 
I  shake  next?" 

"Follow  your  hand,"  said  Ruiz  Rios  briefly. 

That  which  followed  next  would  have  appeared  un- 
believable to  any  who  have  not  over  and  over  watched 
the  inexplicable  happenings  of  a  gaming  table.  Kendric 
made  his  second  throw  and  lifted  his  eyebrows  quizzi- 
cally at  the  result.  He  had  turned  out  the  deuce,  the 
lowest  number  possible.  A  little  eagerly,  while  men 
began  to  mutter  in  their  excitement,  Rios  snatched  up 
cup  and  die  and  threw.  Once  already  he  had  counted 
ten  thousand  as  good  as  won;  now  he  made  the  same 
mistake.  For  the  incredible  happened  and  he,  too, 
showed  a  deuce,  making  a  second  tie. 

Ruiz  cursed  his  disgust  and  hurled  the  box  down. 
Kendric  burst  into  booming  laughter. 

"A  game  for  men  to  talk  about,  friend  Rios!"  he 
said.  And  at  the  moment  he  came  near  feeling  a 
kindly  feeling  for  a  man  whom  he  hated  most  cor- 
dially and  with  high  reason.  "Follow  your  hand." 

Rios  received  the  box  from  a  hand  offering  it  and 
made  his  third  throw  swiftly.  The  six  again. 

"Where  we  began,  senor,"  he  said,  grown  again 
impassive. 

Kendric  was  all  impatient  eagerness  to  make  his 
throw,  looking  like  a  boy  chafing  at  a  moment's 
restraint  against  his  anticipated  pleasures. 

"A  six  to  beat,"  he  said. 

And  beat  it  he  did,  with  the  odds  all  against  him. 
He  turned  up  the  ace  and  won  ten  thousand  dollars. 

In  the  brief  hush  which  came  before  the  shouts  and 
jabberings  of  many  voices,  Ruiz  Rios's  companion 
pulled  him  sharply  by  the  arm,  whispering  quickly* 
But  this  time  Rios  shook  his  head. 


14  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"I  am  through,"  he  said  bluntly.  "Another  time, 
maybe." 

But  the  fever,  to  which  he  had  so  eagerly  sur- 
rendered, wa&  just  gripping  Kendric,  That  he  was 
playing  for  big  stakes  was  the  thing  that  counted. 
That  he  had  won  meant  less  to  him  than  it  would 
have  meant  to  any  other  man  in  the  room  or  any 
other  man  who  had  ever  been  in  the  room  or  any 
other  man  who  would  ever  come  into  the  room.  He 
saw  that  Ruiz  was  through.  But,  as  his  dancing  eyes 
sped  around  among  other  faces,  he  marked  the  twin- 
kling lights  of  covetousness  in  Fat  Ortega's  rat  eyes 
and  he  knew  that,  long  ago,  Ortega  himself  had  played 
for  any  stake.  Beside  Ortega  there  was  another  man 
present  who  might  be  inclined  to  accept  a  hazard, 
Tony  Munoz,  who  conducted  the  rival  gambling  house 
across  the  street  and  who  was  Ortega's  much  despised 
son-in-law.  Long  ago  Ortega  and  Tony  had  quarreled 
and  when  Tony  had  run  away  with  Eloisa,  Ortega's 
pretty  daughter,  men  said  it  was  as  much  to  spite  the 
old  man  as  for  love  of  the  girl's  snapping  eyes.  Tony 
might  play,  if  Ortega  refused. 

"One  throw  for  the  whole  thing,  Ortega?"  chal- 
lenged Kendric.  "You  and  me." 

"Have  I  twenty  thousand  pesos  in  my  pocket?" 
jeered  Ortega.  "You  make  me  the  big  gringo,  bluff." 

"Bluff?  Call  it  then,  man.  That's  what  a  bluff  is 
for.  And  you  don't  need  the  money  in  the  pocket. 
This  house  is  yours.;  your  cellars  are  always  full  of 
expensive  liquors;  there  is  money  in  your  till  and 
something  in  your  safe  yet,  I'll  bet  my  hat.  Put  up 
the  whole  thing  against  my  wad  and  I'll  shake  you 
for  it." 

Plainly  Ortega  was  tempted  And  why  not  ?  There 
lay  on  the  green  table,  winking  up  alluringly  at  him, 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE     15 

twenty  thousand  dollars.  His,  if  simply  a  little  cube 
with  numbers  on  it  turned  in  proper  fashion.  Twenty 
thousand  dollars!  He  licked  his  fat  pendulous  lips. 
And,  to  further  tempt  him,  he  estimated  that  his  en- 
tire holding  here,  bar  fixtures,  tables,  wines  and  cash, 
were  worth  not  above  fifteen  thousand.  But  then, 
this  was  all  that  he  had  in  the  world  and  though  he 
craved  further  gains  until  the  craving  was  acute  like 
a  pain,  still  he  clung  avidly  to  the  power  and  the 
prestige  and  the  luxury  that  were  his  as  owner  of 
la  Casa  Grande.  In  brief,  he  was  too  much  the  moral 
coward  to  be  such  a  gambler  as  Kendric  called  for. 

"No,"  he  snapped  angrily. 

"Look,"  said  Kendric,  smiling.  He  shook  the  die 
and  threw  it,  inverting  the  cup  over  it  so  that  it  was 
hidden.  "I  do  not  know  what  I  have  thrown,  Ortega, 
and  you  do  not  know.  I  will  bet  you  five  thousand 
dollars  even  money  that  it  is  a  six  or  better/' 

Here  were  odds  and  Ortega  jerked  up  his  head. 
Five  thousand  to  bet 

"No,"  he  said  again.  "No.  I  don't  play.  You  have 
devil's  luck." 

With  a  flourish  Jim  lifted  the  cup  to  see  what  he 
had  thrown.  Again  his  utterly  mirthful  laughter 
boomed  out.  It  was  the  deuce,  the  low  throw.  Ortega 
strained  forward,  saw  and  flushed.  Had  he  but  been 
man  enough  to  say  "Yes!"  to  the  odds  offered  him 
he  would  have  been  five  thousand  dollars  richer  this 
instant !  Five  thousand  dollars !  He  ran  a  flabby  hand 
across  a  moist  brow. 

"Where's  the  luck  in  that  throw?"  demanded  Ken- 
dric, fully  enjoying  the  play  of  expression  on  Ortega's 
face. 

"The  luck,"  grumbled  Ortega,  "was  that  I  did  not 


36  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

bet  you.  If  I  had  bet  it  would  have  been  a  six,  no 
less." 

"Tony  Munoz,"  called  Kendric,  turning.  "Will  it 
be  you?" 

"No !"  shouted  Ortega,  already  angered  in  his  grasp- 
ing soul,  ready  to  spew  forth  his  wrath  in  any  direction, 
always  more  than  ready  to  rail  at  his  son-in-law. 
"Mufioz  has  no  business  in  my  house.  Who  is  boss 
here?  It  is  me !" 

Kendric  seeing  that  Tony  Munoz  was  contenting 
himself  with  sneering  and  certainly  would  not  play, 
began  gathering  up  the  money  on  the  table.  It  was 
then  that  for  the  first  time  he  heard  the  voice  of  Ruiz 
Rios's  companion. 

"I  will  play  Sefior  Kendric." 

The  voice  ran  through  the  quiet  of  the  room  musi- 
cally. The  utterance  was  low,  gentle,  the  accent  was 
the  soft,  tender  accent  of  Old  Spain  with  some  subtle 
flavor  of  other  alien  races.  No  man  in  the  room  had 
ever  heard  such  sweet,  soothing  music  as  was  made 
by  her  slow  words.  After  the  sound  died  away  a 
hush  remained  and  through  men's  memories  the 
cadences  repeated  themselves  like  lingering  echoes. 
Kendric  himself  stared  at  her  wonder ingly,  not  know- 
ing why  her  hidden  look  stirred  him  so,  not  knowing 
why  there  should  be  a  spell  worked  by  five  quiet  words. 
Nor  did  he  find  the  spell  entirely  pleasant ;  as  her  look 
had  done,  so  now  her  speech  vaguely  disturbed  him. 
His  emotion,  though  not  outright  irritation,  was  akin 
to  it.  He  was  opening  his  lips  to  say  curtly,  "I  do  not 
play  dice  with  women,  sefiora,"  when  Ortega's  sudden 
outburst  forestalled  him. 

Kendric  had  barely  had  the  time  to  register  the  faint 
impression  of  the  odd  sensation  which  this  companion 
of  Ruiz  Rios  awoke  in  him,  when  he  was  set  to  puzzle 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE     17 

over  Ortega's  explosion.  Why  should  the  gaming- 
house keeper  raise  so  violent  an  objection  to  any  sort 
of  a  game  played  in  his  place?  Perhaps  Ortega  him- 
self could  not  have  explained  clearly  since  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  he  felt  clearly;  it  is  likely  that  a  childishly  blind 
anger  had  spurted  up  venomously  in  his  heart  when 
Kendric  had  exposed  the  deuce  and  men  had  laughed 
and  Ortega  felt  as  though  he  had  lost  five  thousand 
dollars.  In  such  a  case  a  man's  wrath  explodes  readily, 
combustion  breaking  forth  spontaneously  like  an  oily 
rag  in  the  sun.  At  any  rate,  his  fat  face  grown 
hectic,  he  lifted  hand  and  voice,  shouting: 

"I  will  have  no  women  gambling  here.  This  is 
my  place,  a  place  for  men.  You,"  and  he  leveled  his 
forefinger  at  the  slim  figure,  "go!" 

She  ignored  him.  Stepping  forward  quickly,  she 
whipped  off  her  left  glove  and  in  the  bare  white 
fingers,  blazing  with  red  and  green  stones  set  in  golden 
circlets,  she  caught  up  the  dice  cup.  Even  now  little 
was  seen  of  her  face  for  the  other  hand  had  drawn 
lower  the  wide  hat,  higher  the  scarf  about  the  throat. 

"One  die,  one  throw  for  it  all,  Senor  Kendric?" 
she  asked. 

"I  tell  you,  No !"  shouted  Ortega.    "And  No  again !" 

Then,  when  she  stood  unmoved,  her  air  of  insolence 
like  Ruiz  Rios's,  but  even  more  marked,  Ortega  burst 
forward  between  the  men  standing  in  his  way,  shoving 
them  to  right  and  left  with  the  powerful  sweep  of  his 
thick  arms.  His  uplifted  hand  came  down  on  her 
shoulder,  thrusting  her  backward.  Her  ungloved 
hand,  the  left  as  Kendric  marked  while  he  watched 
interestedly,  flashed  to  her  bosom,  and  leaped  out 
again,  a  thin-bladed  knife  in  the  grip  of  the  bejewelled 
fingers.  Ortega  saw  and  feared  and,  .grown  nimble, 
sprang  back  from  her.  Quickly  enough  to  save  the 


i8  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

life  in  him,  not  so  quickly  as  entirely  to  avoid  the 
sweep  of  the  knife.  His  sleeve  fell  apart,  slit  from 
shoulder  to  wrist,  and  in  the  opening  the  man's  flesh 
showed  with  a  thin  red  line  marking  it. 

There  was  tumult  and  confusion  for  a  little  while, 
hardly  more  than  a  moment  it  seemed  to  Kendric. 
He  only  knew  that  at  the  end  of  it  Ortega  had  gone 
grumbling  away,  led  by  a  couple  of  friends  who  no 
xloubt  would  bandage  his  wounded  arm,  and  that  the 
woman,  having  put  her  knife  away,  appeared  not  in 
the  least  disturbed.  He  knew  then  that  while  men 
talked  and  shouted  about  him  he  had  not  once  with- 
drawn his  eyes  from  her. 

"One  throw?"  she  was  asking  again,  the  voice  as 
tender,  as  vaguely  disquieting  to  his  senses,  as  full  of 
low  music  as  before.  He  shook  himself  as  though 
rousing  from  a  trance. 

"I  do  not  play  at  dice  with  ladies,  Sefiora,"  he  said 
bluntly. 

"Did  you  bluff,  after  all?'*  she  asked  curiously. 
She  seemed  sincere  in  her  question;  he  fancied  a  note 
of  disappointment  in  her  tone.  It  was  as  though  she 
had  said  before,  "Here  is  a  man  who  is  not  afraid  of 
big  stakes,"  and  as  though  now  she  were  revising  her 
estimate  of  him.  "Men  will  call  you  Big  Mouth," 
she  added.  "And  I,  I  will  laugh  in  your  face." 

"Where  is  the  money  you  would  wager  against 
mine  ?"  demanded  Jim,  thinking  he  saw  the  short  easy 
way  out 

Already  she  was  prepared  for  the  question.  In  her 
gloved  hand  was  a  little  hand  bag,  a  trifle  in  black 
leather  the  size  of  a  man's  purse.  She  opened  it  and 
spilled  the  contents  on  the  table.  Poured  out  into  the 
mellow  lamp  light  a  long  glorious  string  of  pearls  ap- 
peared, each  separate  lustrous  gem  glowing  with  its 


A  YOUNG  AMERICAN  PLAYS  AT  DICE     19 

silvery  sheen,  satiny  and  tremulous  with  its  shining 
loveliness. 

"Holy  God!"  gasped  Twisty  Barlow. 

"There  is  the  worth  of  your  money  many  times 
over,"  came  the  quiet  assurance  in  the  low  voice  like 
liquid  music, 

"If  they  are  real  pearls/*  muttered  Kendric.  "And 
not  just  imitations." 

She  made  no  reply.  He  felt  that  from  the  shelter 
of  the  broad  hat  brim  a  pair  of  inscrutable  eyes  were 
smiling  scornfully. 

"Can't  I  tell  real  pearls  like  them,  when  I  see  'em?" 
cried  Twisty  Barlow  excitedly.  He  leaned  forward  and 
caught  the  great  necklace  up  in  his  eager  hands. 
"What  would  I  be  wantin'  that  steamer  in  San  Diego 
Bay  for  if  I  didn't  know?"  He  held  them  up  to  the 
lamp  light ;  he  fingered  them  one  after  the  other ;  he  put 
them  down  at  the  end  reverently  and  with  a  great  sigh. 
"The  worth  of  them,  Headlong,  my  boy,"  he  said 
shakily,  "would  make  your  pile  look  sick." 

"And  yet  I'd  bet  a  thousand  they're  phony,"  burst 
from  Kendric.  Then  he  caught  himself  up  short. 
Suppose  they  were  or  were  not  ?  A  woman  was  offer- 
ing to  play  him  and  he  was  holding  back;  he  was 
making  excuses,  the  second  already;  in  his  own  ears 
his  words,  sensible  though  they  were,  began  to  ring 
like  the  petty  talk  of  a  hedgen  "Turn  out  the  die, 
Senora,"  he  said  abruptly.  "As  you  say,  one  throw 
and  ace  high," 

With  her  left  hand  she  quietly  shook  the  box, 
setting  the  white  cube  dancing  therein.  "You  lose, 
Jim,"  said  Monte  at  his  elbow  before  the  cast  was 
made.  "Look  out  for  left-handers."  Then  she  made 
her  throw  and  turned  up  an  ace. 

Kendric  caught  up  box  and  die  and  threw.    And 


20  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

again  he  had  turned  the  deuce,  the  lowest  number  on 
the  die.  He  heard  her  laugh  as  she  drew  money  and 
jewels  toward  her.  All  low  music,  ruffling  a  man's 
blood,  thrilling  him  after  that  strange  perturbing 
fashion. 


CHAPTER  II 

IN  WHICH  A  SPELL  IS  WORKED  AND  AN 
EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN 

FOR  a  moment  she  and  Jim  Kendric  stood  facing 
each  other  with  only  the  little  table  and  its  cargo  of 
treasure  separating  them,  engulfed  in  a  great  silence. 
He  saw  her  eyes;  they  were  like  pools  of  lambent 
phosphorescence  in  the  black  shadow  of  her  hair.  He 
glimpsed  in  them  an  eloquence  which  mystified  him; 
it  was  as  though  through  her  eyes  her  heart  or  her 
mind  or  her  soul  were  reaching  out  toward  his  but 
speaking  a  tongue  foreign  to  his  understanding.  Her 
gaze  was  steady  and  penetrating  and  held  him  mo- 
tionless. Nor,  though  he  did  not  at  the  time  notice, 
did  any  man  in  the  room  stir  until  she,  turning  swiftly, 
at  last  broke  the  charm.  She  went  out  through  the 
rear  door,  Ruiz  Rios  at  her  heels. 

When  the  door  closed  after  them  Kendric  chanced 
to  note  Twisty  Barlow  at  his  elbow.  A  queer  ex- 
pression was  stamped  on  the  rigid  features  of  the 
sailorman.  Plainly  Barlow,  intrigued  into  a  profound 
abstraction,  was  alike  unconscious  of  his  whereabouts 
or  of  the  attention  which  he  was  drawing.  His  eyes 
stared  and  strained  after  the  vanished  Mexican  and 
his  companion;  he,  too,  had  been  fascinated;  he  was 
like  a  man  in  a  trance.  Now  he  started  and  brushed 
his  hand  across  his  eyes  and,  moving  jerkily,  hurried 
to  the  door  and  went  out.  Kendric  followed  him  and 
laid  a  restraining  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

21 


22  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Easy,  old  boy,"  he  said  quietly.  Barlow  started 
at  the  touch  of  his  hand  and  stood  frowning  and 
fingering  his  forelock.  "I  know  what's  burning  hot 
in  your  fancies.  Remember  they  may  be  paste,  after 
all.  And  anyway  they're  not  treasure  trove." 

"You  mean  those  pearls  might  be  fake?"  Barlow 
laughed  strangely.  "And  you  think  I  might  be 
slittin'  throats  for  them?  Don't  be  an  ass,  Headlong; 
I'm  sober." 

"Where  away,  then,  in  such  a  hurry?"  demanded 
Kendric,  still  aware  of  something  amiss  in  Barlow's 
bearing. 

"About  my  business,"  retorted  the  sailor.  "And 
suppose  you  mind  yours?" 

Kendric  shrugged  and  went  back  to  his  friends. 
But  at  the  door  he  turned  and  saw  Barlow  hastening 
along  the  dim  street  in  the  wake  of  the  disappearing 
forms  of  Ruiz  Rios  and  the  woman. 

Inside  there  were  some  few  who  sought  to  console 
Kendric,  thinking  that  to  any  man  the  loss  of  ten 
thousand  dollars  must  be  a  considerable  blow.  His 
answer  was  a  clap  on  the  back  and  a  laughing  demand 
to  know  what  they  were  driving  at  and  what  they 
took  him  for,  anyway?  Those  who  knew  him  best 
squandered  no  sympathy  where  they  knew  none  was 
needed.  To  the  discerning,  though  they  had  never 
known  another  man  who  won  or  lost  with  equal  gusto 
in  the  game,  who  when  he  met  fortune  or  misfortune 
"treated  those  two  impostors  just  the  same,"  Jim 
Kendric  was  exactly  what  he  appeared  to  be,  a  devil- 
may-care  sort  of  fellow  who  had  infinite  faith  in  his 
tomorrow  and  who  had  never  learned  to  love  money. 

Kendric  was  relieved  when,  half  an  hour  later, 
Twisty  Barlow  came  back.  Kendric's  mood  was 
boisterous  from  the  sheer  joy  of  being  among  friends 


AN  EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN  23 

and  once  more  as  good  as  on  home  soil  He  went  up 
and  down  among  them  with  his  pockets  turned  wrong- 
side  out  and  hanging  eloquently,  swapping  yarns,  in- 
viting recitals  of  wild  doings,  making  a  man  here  and 
there  join  him  in  one  of  the  old  songs,  singing  mightily 
himself.  He  had  just  given  a  brief  sketch  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  had  acquired  his  latest  stake ;  how  down 
in  Mexico  he  had  done  business  with  a  man  whom  he 
did  not  trust  Hence  Kendric  had  insisted  on  having 
the  whole  thing  in  good  old  U.  S.  money  and  then  had 
ridden  like  the  devil  beating  tan  bark  to  keep  ahead  of 
the  half-dozen  ragged  cut-throats  who,  he  was  sure, 
had  been  started  on  his  trail 

"And  now  that  I'm  rid  of  it,"  he  said,  "I  can  get 
a  good  night's  sleep!  Who  wants  to  be  a  millionaire 
anyway  ?" 

He  saw  that  though  Barlow  had  once  more  com- 
mand of  his  features,  there  was  still  a  feverish  gleam 
in  his  eyes.  And,  further,  that  with  rising  impatience 
Barlow  was  waiting  for  him. 

"Come  alive,  Twisty,  old  mate,"  Kendric  called  to 
him.  "Limber  up  and  give  us  a  good  old  deep-sea 
chantey!" 

Twisty  stood  where  he  was,  eyeing  him  curiously. 

"I  want  to  talk  to  you,  Jim,"  he  said  His  voice 
like  his  look  told  of  excitement  repressed. 

"It's  early/'  retorted  Kendric,  "and  talk  will  keep. 
A  night  like  this  was  meant  for  other  things  than 
for  two  old  fools  like  you  and  me  to  sit  in  a  corner 
with  long  faces.  Strike  up  the  chantey." 

"You're  busted,"  said  Barlow  sharply.  "You've 
had  your  fling  and  you've  shot  your  wad  Come  along 
with  me.  You  know  what  shore  I'm  headin'  to.  You 
know  I've  got  my  hooks  in  that  old  tub  down  to  San 
Diego— — " 


24  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"There's  a  craft  in  San  Deigo/* 
improvised  Kendric  lightly. 

With  no  cargo  in  her  hold, 
And  old  Twisty  Barlow's  leased  her 

For  to  fill  her  up  with  Gold. 

And  he'd  go  a  buccaneerin',  privateerin',  wildly  steerin* 
For  the  beaches  where  the  sun  shines  on  whole  banks  of 
blazin'  pearls " 

But  his  rhythm  was  getting  away  from  him  and  his 
rhymes  petered  out  and  he  stopped,  laughing  while 
around  him  men  clamored  for  more. 

"Oh,  there'll  be  a  tale  to  tell  when  Twisty  sails 
back,"  he  conceded.  "But  until  he's  under  way 
there's  no  tale  to  tell  and  so  what's  the  use  of  talk? 
A  song's  better;  walk  her  up,  Twisty,  old  mate." 

Barlow's  impatience  flared  out  into  irritation. 

"What's  the  sense  of  this  monkey  business?"  he 
demanded.  "I'm  off  to  San  Diego  by  moon-rise.  If 
you  ain't  with  me,  you  ain't.  Just  say  so,  can't  you?" 

"A  song  first,  Twisty?"  countered  Kendric. 

"Will  you  come  listen  to  me  then?"  asked  Barlow. 
"Word  of  honor?" 

It  was  plain  that  he  was  in  dead  earnest  and  Kendric 
cried,  "Yes,"  quite  heartily.  Then  Barlow,  putting 
up  with  Kendric's  mood  since  there  was  no  other 
way  that  one  might  do  for  a  wilful,  spoiled  child  over 
which  he  had  no  authority  of  the  rod,  allowed  him- 
self to  be  dragged  to  the  middle  of  the  room  and  there, 
standing  side  by  side,  the  two  men  lifted  their  voices 
to  the  swing  and  pulse  of  "The  Flying  Fish  Catcher," 
through  all  but  interminable  verses,  while  the  men 
about  them  kept  enthusiastic  time  by  tramping  heavily 
with  their  thick  boots.  At  the  end  Kendric  put  his 
arm  about  the  shoulders  of  his  shorter  companion, 


AN  EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN  25 

and  in  lock  step  they  went  out.    The  party  was  over. 

"What's  on  your  mind,  Seafarer?"  asked  Kendric 
when  they  were  outside. 

"Loot,  mostly,"  said  Barlow.  "But  first,  while  I 
think  of  it,  Ruiz  Rios's  wife  wants  a  word  with  you." 

"What  about?"  Kendric  opened  his  eyes.  And,  be- 
fore Barlow  answered,  "You  saw  her  then?" 

"I  went  up  to  the  hotel.  Tried  to  get  a  room.  She 
saw  me  and  sent  for  you.  She  didn't  say  what  for." 

"Well,  I'll  not  go,"  Kendric  told  him.  "Now  spin 
your  yarn  about  your  loot." 

He  leaned  against  a  lamp  post  while  Twisty  Bar- 
low, upright  and  eager,  said  his  say.  A  colorful  tale 
it  was  in  which  the  reciter  was  lavish  with  pearls  and 
ancient  gold.  It  appeared  that  one  had  but  to  sail 
down  the  coast  of  Lower  California,  up  into  the  gulf 
and  get  ashore  upon  a  certain  strip  of  sandy  beach 
in  the  shadows  of  the  cliffs. 

"And  I  tell  you  I've  already  got  the  hull  off  San 
Diego  that  will  take  us  there,"  maintained  Barlow. 
"All  I'm  short  of  is  you  to  stand  your  share  of  the 
hell  we'll  raise  and  to  chip  in  with  what  coin  you  can 
scrape.  If  you  hadn't  been  a  damn  fool  with  that  ten 
thousand,"  he  added  bitterly. 

"Spilled  milk.  Forget  it  It  came  out  of  Mexico 
and  it  goes  back  where  it  belongs.  But  if  you're  count- 
ing on  me  for  any  such  amount  as  that,  you're  up  a 
tree.  I'm  flat." 

"We'll  go  just  the  same  if  you  can't  raise  a  bean," 
said  Barlow  positively.  "But  if  you  can  dig  anything, 
for  God's  sake  scrape  lively.  We  want  to  get  there 
before  somebody  else  does.  And  I  was  hopin'  you'd 
come  across  for  grub  and  some  guns  and  odds  and 
ends." 

"I've  got  a  few  oil  shares,"   said  Kendric.     "If 


26  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

they're  roosting  around  par  they're  good  for  twenty- 
five  hundred." 

Barlow  brightened, 

"We'll  knock  'em  down  in  San  Diego  if  we  only  get 
two  fifty!"  he  announced,  considering  the  sale  as  good 
as  made.  "And  we'll  do  the  best  we  can  on  what  we 

get- 

Not  yet  had  Kendric  agreed  to  go  adventuring  with 
Twisty  Barlow.  But  in  his  soul  he  knew  that  he  would 
go,  and  so  did  Barlow.  There  was  nothing  to  hold 
him  here ;  from  elsewhere  the  voice  which  seldom  grew 
quiet  was  singing  in  his  ears.  He  knew  something  of 
the  gulf  into  which  Barlow  meant  to  lead  him,  and  of 
that  defiant,  legend-infested  strip  of  little-known  land 
which  lay  in  a  seven  hundred  mile  strip  along  its 
edge;  he  knew  that  if  a  man  found  nothing  else  he 
would  stand  his  chance  of  finding  life  running  large. 
It  was  the  last  frontier  and  as  such  it  had  the  singing 
voice. 

"You'll  go?"  said  Barlow. 

But  first  Kendric  asked  his  few  questions.  When 
he  had  answers  to  the  last  of  them  his  own  eyes 
were  shining.  His  truant  fancies  at  last  had  been 
snared;  he  was  going  headlong  into  the  thing,  he 
had  already  come  to  believe  that  at  the  end  of  it  he 
would  again  have  filled  his  pockets  the  while  he  would 
have  drunk  deep  of  the  life  that  satisfied.  It  was  long 
since  he  had  smelled  the  sea,  had  known  ocean  sun- 
rise and  sunset,  had  gone  to  sleep  with  his  bunk  sway- 
ing and  the  water  lapping.  So  when  again  Barlow 
said,  "You'll  come?"  Kendric's  hand  shot  out  to  be 
gripped  by  way  of  signing  a  contract,  and  his  voice 
rang  out  joyously,  "Put  her  there,  old  mate!  I'm 
with  you,  blow  high,  blow  low." 

For  a  few  minutes  they  planned.     Then  Barlow 


AN  EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN  27 

hurried  off  to  make  what  few  arrangements  were 
necessary  before  they  could  be  in  the  saddle  and  riding 
toward  a  railroad.  Kendric  meant  to  get  two  or 
three  hours'  sleep  since  he  realized  that  even  his  hard 
body  could  not  continue  indefinitely  as  he  had  been 
driving  it  here  of  late.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
done  just  now  that  Barlow  could  not  do;  before  the 
saddled  horses  could  be  brought  for  him  he  could 
have  time  for  what  rest  he  needed. 

The  thought  of  bed  was  pleasant  as  he  walked  on 
for  he  realized  that  he  was  tired  in  every  muscle  of 
his  body.  The  street  was  deserted  saving  the  figure 
of  a  boy  he  saw  coming  toward  him.  As  he  was  turn- 
ing a  corner  the  boy's  voice  accosted  him. 

"Senor  Kendric,"  came  the  call.     "Un  momenta." 

Kendric  waited.  The  boy,  a  half-breed  in  ragged 
clothes,  came  close  and  peered  into  his  face.  Then, 
having  made  sure,  he  whipped  out  a  small  parcel  from 
under  his  torn  coat. 

"Para  usted"  he  announced. 

Kendric  took  it,  wondering. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked    "Who  sent  it?" 

But  the  boy  was  slouching  on  down  the  street 
Kendric  called  sharply;  the  boy  hastened  his  pace. 
And  when  Kendric  started  after  him  the  ragamuffin 
broke  into  a  run  and  disappeared  down  an  alley  way. 
Kendric  gave  him  up  and  came  back  to  the  street, 
tearing  off  the  outer  wrap  of  the  package  under  a 
street  lamp.  In  his  hand  was  a  sheaf  of  bank  notes 
which  he  readily  recognized  as  the  very  ones  he  had 
just  now  lost  at  dice,  together  with  a  slip  of  note 
paper  on  which  were  a  few  finely  penned  lines. 
He  held  them  up  to  the  light  in  an  amazement  which 
sought  an  explanation.  The  words  were  in  Spanish 
and  said  briefly: 


28  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"To  Sefior  Jim  Kendric  because  under  his  laugh  he  looked 
sad  when  he  lost.  From  one  who  does  not  play  at  any  game 
with  faint  hearts." 

His  face  flushed  hot  as  he  read ;  angrily  his  big  hand 
crumpled  message  and  bank  notes  together.  He 
glanced  down  the  empty  street;  then  forgetful  of  bed 
and  rest,  his  anger  rising,  he  strode  swiftly  off  toward 
the  hotel,  muttering  under  his  breath.  The  hotel- 
keeper  he  found  alone  in  the  little  room  which  served 
him  as  office  and  bed  chamber. 

"I  want  to  see  Mrs.  Rios,"  said  Kendric  curtly. 

"You'd  be  meaning  the  Mexican  lady?  Name  of 
Castelmar."  He  drew  his  soiled,  inky  guest  book 
toward  him.  "Zoraida  Castelmar." 

"I  suppose  so/'  answered  Kendric.  "Where  is 
she?" 

"Your  name  would  be  Kendric?"  persisted  the  hotel- 
keeper.  And  at  Kendric's  short  "Yes,"  he  pointed 
down  the  hall.  "Third  door,  left  side.  She's  expect- 
ing you." 

Had  Kendric  paused  to  speculate  over  the  implica- 
tion of  the  man's  words  he  would  inevitably  have 
understood  the  trick  Ruiz  Rios's  companion  had  played 
on  him.  But  he  was  never  given  to  stopping  for 
reflection  when  he  had  started  for  a  definite  goal  and 
furthermore  just  now  his  wrath  was  consuming  him. 
He  went  furiously  down  the  hall  and  struck  at  the 
door  as  though  it  were  a  man  who  had  stirred  his  anger 
by  standing  in  his  path.  "Come  in,"  invited  a  woman's 
voice  in  Spanish,  the  inflection  distinctly  that  of  old 
Mexico.  In  he  went. 

Before  him  stood  an  old  woman,  her  face  a  tangle 
of  deep  wrinkles,  her  hair  spotted  with  white,  her  eyes 
small  and  black  and  keen.  He  looked  at  her  in  sur- 


AN  EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN  29 

prise.  Somehow  he  had  counted  on  finding  Zoraida 
Castelmar  young;  just  why  he  was  not  certain.  But 
the  surprise  was  an  emotion  of  no  duration,  since  a 
hotter  emotion  overrode  it  and  crowded  it  out. 

"Look  here,"  he  began  angrily,  his  hand  lifted,  the 
bills  tight  clenched. 

But  she  interrupted. 

"You  are  Sefior  Kendric,  no?  She  awaits  you. 
There." 

She  indicated  still  another  door  and  would  have 
gone  to  open  it  for  him.  But  he  brushed  by  her  and 
threw  it  back  himself  and  crossed  the  threshold  im- 
patiently. And  again  his  emotion  surging  uppermost 
briefly  was  one  of  surprise.  The  room  was  empty;  it 
was  the  unexpected  and  incongruous  trappings  which 
astonished  him.  On  all  hands  the  walls,  from  ceiling 
to  floor,  were  hidden  by  rich  silken  curtains,  hanging 
in  deep  purple  folds,  displaying  a  profusion  of  bright 
hued  woven  patterns,  both  splendid  and  barbaric.  The 
floor  was  carpeted  by  a  soft  thick  rug,  as  brilliant  as 
the  wall  drapes.  The  two  chairs  were  hidden  under 
similar  drapes,  the  small  square  table  covered  by  a 
mantle  of  deep  blue  and  gold  which  fell  to  the  floor. 
Beyond  all  of  this  the  solitary  bit  of  furnishing  was 
the  object  on  the  table  whose  oddity  caught  and  held 
his  eye ;  a  thin  column  of  crystal  like  a  ten-inch  needle, 
based  in  a  red  disc  and  supporting  a  hollow  cap,  the 
size  of  an  acorn  cup,  in  which  was  a  single  stone  or 
bead  of  glass,  he  knew  not  which.  He  only  knew  that 
the  thing  was  alive  with  the  fire  in  it  and  blazed  red, 
and  he  fancied  it  was  a  ruby. 

He  glanced  hurriedly  about  the  room,  making  sure 
that  it  was  empty.  Again  his  eyes  came  back  to  the 
glowing  jewel  supported  by  the  thin  crystal  stem.  Now 
he  was  conscious  of  a  sweet  heavy  perfume  filling  the 


30  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

room,  a  fragrance  new,  to  him  and  subtly  exotic. 
Everything  about  him  was  fantastic,  extravagant, 
absurd,  he  told  himself  bluntly,  as  was  everything 
connected  with  an  absurd  woman  who  did  mad  things. 
He  looked  at  the  bank  notes  in  his  hand  What  more 
insane  act  than  to  send  an  amount  of  money  of  this 
size  to  a  stranger? 

The  familiarly  disturbing  feeling  that  eyes,  her  eyes, 
were  upon  him,  came  again.  He  turned  short  about. 
She  stood  just  across  the  room,  her  back  to  the  motion- 
less curtains.  Whence  she  had  come  and  how,  he  did 
not  know.  She  was  smiling  at  him  and  for  the  first 
time  he  saw  her  eyes  clearly  and  her  dark  passionate 
face  and  scarlet  mouth.  He  did  not  know  if  she  were 
fifteen  or  twenty-five.  The  oval  face,  the  curving  lips 
were  those  of  a  young  maiden ;  her  tall,  slender  figure 
was  obscured  by  the  loose  folds  of  a  snow  white  gar- 
ment which  fell  to  the  floor  about  her;  her  eyes  were 
just  now  of  any  age  or  ageless,  unfathomable,  and, 
though  they  smiled,  filled  with  a  sort  of  mockery 
which  baffled  him,  confused  him,  angered  him.  Upon 
one  point  alone  there  could  be  no  shadow  of  doubt; 
from  the  top  of  her  proudly  lifted  head  with  its 
abundance  of  black  hair  wherein  a  jewel  gleamed,  to 
the  tips  of  her  exquisite  fingers  where  gleamed  many 
jewels,  she  was  almost  unhumanly  lovely.  She  looked 
foreign,  but  he  could  not  guess  what  land  had  cradled 
her.  Mexico  ?  Why  Mexico  more  than  another  land  ? 
It  struck  him  that  she  would  have  seemed  alien  to  any 
land  under  the  sun.  She  might  have  sprung  from 
some  race  of  beings  upon  another  star. 

She  had  marked  the  look  on  his  face  and  in  her 
eyes  the  laughter  deepened  and  the  mockery  stood 
higher.  He  frowned  and  stepped  to  the  table,  tossing 
down  the  pad  of  bank  notes. 


AN  EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN  31 

'That  is  yours,"  he  told  her  briefly.  "I  don't  want 
it  and  I  won't  take  it" 

Then  she,  too,  came  forward  to  the  table.  Her  left 
hand  took  up  the  money  swiftly,  eagerly,  it  struck 
him,  and  thrust  it  out  of  sight  somewhere  among  the 
folds  of  her  gown.  Then  finally  her  laughter  parted 
her  lips  and  the  low  music  of  it  filled  the  room.  He 
knew  in  a  flash  now  that  she  had  never  meant  to  allow 
her  winnings  to  escape  her;  that  there  had  been  craft 
in  the  wording  of  the  message  she  had  sent  him ;  that 
all  along  she  counted  on  his  coming  to  her  as  he  had 
come.  She  sank  into  the  chair  nearest  her  and  indi- 
cated the  other  to  him. 

"If  Senor  Kendric  will  be  seated,"  she  said  lightly, 
"I  should  like  to  speak  with  him." 

In  blazing  anger  had  Kendric  come  here.  Now, 
seeing  clearly  just  how  she  had  played  with  him  the 
blood  grew  hotter  in  his  face  and  hammered  at  his 
temples. 

"Senora"  he  said  crisply,  "there  need  be  no  talk 
between  you  and  me  since  we  have  no  business  to- 
gether." " 

"Senorita/'  she  corrected  him  curiously.  "I  am  not 
married." 

"Nor  is  that  a  matter  for  us  to  discuss."  He 
meant,  as  he  desired,  to  be  rude  to  her.  "Since  it 
does  not  interest  me." 

"It  has  interested  marry  men,"  she  laughed  at  him 
lightly,  but  still  with  that  intense  probing  look  filling 
the  black  depths  of  her  eyes.  "With  them  it  has  been 
a  vital  matter." 

Before  he  had  marked  something  peculiar  about 
the  eyes;  now  he  saw  just  what  it  was.  They  were 
Oriental,  slanting  upward  slightly  toward  the  white 
temples.  No  wonder  she  had  impressed  him  as  for- 


32  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

eign.  He  wondered  if  she  were  Persian  or  Arabian; 
if  in  her  blood  was  a  strain  of  Chinese,  even? 

He  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard  her  but  groped  for 
the  door  through  which  he  had  come.  It  now,  like 
the  rest  of  the  walls,  was  hidden  under  the  silken 
hangings  which  no  doubt  had  fallen  into  place  when 
the  door  had  closed  behind  him.  He  did  not  remember 
having  shut  it;  perhaps  the  old  woman  in  the  outer 
room  had  done  so.  And  locked  it.  For  when  at  last 
his  hand  found  the  knob  the  door  would  not  open. 

"What's  all  this  nonsense  about?"  he  demanded. 
"I  want  to  go." 

It  was  her  turn  to  pretend  not  to  have  heard.  She 
sat  back  idly,  looking  at  him  fixedly,  smiling  at  him 
after  her  strange  fashion. 

"I  have  heard  of  you,"  she  said  at  last.  "A  great 
deal.  I  have  even  seen  you  once  before  tonight.  I 
know  the  sort  of  man  you  are.  I  know  how  you  made 
your  money  in  Mexico;  how  you  rode  with  it  across 
the  border.  I  have  never  known  another  man  like 
you,  Senor  Jim  Kendric." 

"Will  you  have  the  door  unlocked?"  he  said.  "Or 
shall  I  smash  it  off  its  hinges  ?" 

"A  man  with  your  look  and  your  reputation,"  she 
said  calmly,  "was  worth  a  woman's  looking  up.  When 
that  woman  had  need  for  a  man."  Her  eyes  were 
glittering  now ;  she  leaned  forward,  suddenly  rigid  and 
tense  and  breathing  hard.  "When  I  have  found  a  man 
who  stakes  ten  thousand,  twenty  thousand  on  one 
throw  and  is  not  moved ;  who  returns  ten  thousand  in 
rage  because  a  word  of  pity  goes  with  it,  am  I  to 
let  him  go?" 

"I  don't  like  the  company  you  keep,"  said  Kendric. 
"And  I  don't  like  your  ways  of  doing  business.  I 
guess  you'll  have  to  let  me  go." 


AN  EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN  33 

"You  mean  Ruiz  Rios?"  Her  eyes  flashed  and  her 
two  hands  clenched.  Then  she  sank  back  again,  laugh- 
ing. "When  you  learn  to  hate  him  as  I  do,  senor, 
then  will  you  know  what  hate  means !" 

He  pressed  a  knee  against  the  door,  near  the  lock. 
The  hangings  getting  in  his  way,  he  tore  them  aside. 
Zoraida  Castelmar  watched  him  half  in  amusement, 
half  in  mockery. 

"There  is  a  heavy  oak  bar  on  the  other  side,"  she 
told  him  carelessly. 

"I  have  a  notion/'  he  flung  at  her,  "to  take  that 
white  throat  of  yours  in  my  two  hands  and  choke 
you!" 

The  words  startled  her,  seemed  to  astound,  be- 
wilder. 

"You  think  that  you — that  any  man — could  do 
that?"  It  was  hardly  more  than  a  whisper  full  of 
incredulity. 

"Well,  I  don't  suppose  that  I  would,  anyway,"  he 
admitted.  "But  look  here:  I've  got  some  riding  ahead 
of  me  and  I'm  dog  tired  and  want  a  wink  of  sleep. 
Suppose  we  get  this  foolishness  over  with.  What  do 
you  want?" 

"I  want  you.  To  go  with  me  to  my  place  where 
there  are  dangers  to  me;  yes,  even  to  me.  I  know 
the  man  you  are  and  in  what  I  could  trust  you  and  in 
what  I  could  not.  I  would  make  your  fortune  for 
you."  Again  she  looked  curiously  at  him.  "Under 
the  hand  of  Zoraida  Castelmar  you  could  rise  high, 
Sen  or  Kendric." 

He  shook  his  head  impatiently  before  she  had  done 
and  again  at  the  end. 

"I  am  no  woman's  man,"  he  told  her  steadily,  "and 
I  want  no  place  as  any  woman's  watchdog.  Offer  me 


34  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

what  you  please,  a  thousand  dollars  a  day,  and  I'll 
say  no." 

From  its  place  under  his  left  arm  pit  he  brought 
out  a  heavy  caliber  revolver,  toying  with  it  while  he 
spoke.  Her  look  ran  from  the  black  metal  barrel  to 
his  face. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  frighten  me?"  she  de- 
manded. 

"I  don't  mean  to  try.  I'll  shoot  off  the  lock  and 
the  hinges  and  if  the  door  still  stands  up  I'll  keep  on 
shooting  until  the  hotel  man  comes  and  lets  me  out." 
He  put  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  at  the  lock. 

"Wait !"  She  sprang  to  her  feet.  "I  will  open  for 
you."  She  brushed  by  him  and  rapped  with  her 
knuckles  on  the  door.  Beyond  was  a  sound  of  a  bolt 
being  slipped,  of  a  bar  grinding  in  its  sockets.  "One 
thing  only  and  you  can  go :  When  you  come  before  me 
again  it  may  be  you  who  begs  for  favors !  And  it  will 
be  I  who  grant  or  withhold  as  it  may  appear  wise  to 
me." 

"Witch,  are  you?"  he  jeered.  "A  professional 
reader  of  fortunes?  God  knows  you've  got  the  place 
fixed  up  like  it!" 

"Maybe,"  she  returned  serenely,  "I  am  more  than 
witch.  Maybe  I  do  read  that  which  is  hidden.  Qmen 
sake,  Senor  Kendric,  scorner  of  ladies?  At  least," 
and  again  her  laughter  tantalized  him,  "I  knew  where 
to  find  you  tonight ;  I  knew  you  would  win  from  Ruiz 
Rios;  I  knew  I  would  win  from  you;  I  knew  you 
would  refuse  to  come  to  me  and  then  would  come.  All 
this  I  knew  when  you  took  your  ten  thousand  from 
the  bank  down  in  Mexico  and  rode  toward  the  border. 
Further,"  and  he  was  baffled  to  know  whether  she 
meant  what  her  words  implied  or  whether  she  was 
merely  making  fun  of  him,  "I  have  put  a  charm  and 


AN  EXPEDITION  IS  BEGUN  35 

a  spell  over  your  life  from  which  you  are  never  going 
to  be  free.  Put  as  many  miles  as  it  pleases  you  be- 
tween you  and  Zoraida  Castelmar ;  she  will  bring  you 
back  to  her  side  at  a  time  no  more  distant  than  the  end 
of  this  same  month." 

He  gave  her  a  contemptuous  and  angry  silence  for 
answer.  In  the  street  he  looked  up  at  the  stars  and 
filled  his  lungs  with  an  expanding  sigh  of  relief.  This 
companion  of  Ruiz  Rios  who  paid  passionate  claim 
to  an  intense  hatred  of  the  man  whom  she  allowed  to 
escort  her  here  and  there,  impressed  him  as  no  natural 
woman  at  all  but  as  something  of  strange  influences, 
a  malign,  powerful,  implacable  spirit  incased  in  the 
fair  body  of  a  slender  girl  He  told  himself  fervently 
that  he  was  glad  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  the  black 
oblique  eyes. 

Two  hours  later  he  was  in  the  saddle,  riding  knee 
to  knee  with  Twisty  Barlow,  headed  for  San  Diego 
Bay  and  a  man's  adventure.  "In  which,  praise  be," 
he  muttered  under  his  breath,  "there  is  no  room  for 
women."  And  yet,  since  strong  emotions,  like  the  rest- 
less sea,  leave  their  high  water  marks  when  they  sub- 
side, the  image  of  the  girl  Zoraida  held  its  place  in 
his  fancies,  to  return  stubbornly  when  he  banished  it, 
even  her  words  and  her  laughter  echoing  in  his 
memory. 

"I  have  put  a  spell  and  a  charm  over  your  life,"  she 
had  told  him. 

"Clap-trap  of  a  charlatan,"  he  growled  under  his 
breath.  And  when  Barlow  asked  what  he  had  said  he 
cried  out  eagerly : 

"We  can't  get  into  your  old  tub  and  out  to  sea  any 
too  soon  for  me,  old  mate." 

Whereupon  Barlow  laughed  contentedly. 


CHAPTER  III 

OF  THE  NEW   MOON,  A  TALE  OF  AZTEC  TREASURE 
AND  A   MYSTERY 

ON  board  the  schooner  New  Moon  standing  crazily 
out  to  sea,  with  first  port  of  call  a  nameless,  cliff- 
sheltered  sand  beach  which  in  his  heart  he  christened 
from  afar  Port  Adventure,  Jim  Kendric  was  richly 
content.  With  huge  satisfaction  he  looked  upon  the 
sparkling  sea,  the  little  vessel  which  scooned  across  it, 
his  traveling  mate,  the  big  negro  and  the  half-wit 
Philippino  cabin  boy.  If  anything  desirable  lacked 
Kendric  could  not  put  the  name  to  it. 

Few  days  had  been  lost  getting  under  way.  He 
had  gone  straight  up  to  Los  Angeles  where  he  had 
sold  his  oil  shares.  They  brought  him  twenty-three 
hundred  dollars  and  he  knocked  them  down  merrily. 
Now  with  every  step  forward  his  lively  interest  in- 
creased. He  bought  the  rifles  and  ammunition, 
shipping  them  down  to  Barlow  in  San  Diego.  And 
upon  him  fell  the  duty  and  delight  of  provisioning  for 
the  cruise.  As  Barlow  had  put  it,  the  Lord  alone  knew 
how  long  they  would  be  gone,  and  Jim  Kendric  meant 
to  take  no  unnecessary  chances.  No  doubt  they  could 
get  fish  and  some  game  in  that  land  toward  which  their 
imaginings  already  had  set  full  sail,  but  ham  by  the 
stack  and  bacon  by  the  yard  and  countless  tins  of  fruit 
and  vegetables  made  a  fair  ballast  Kendric  spent 
lavishly  and  at  the  end  was  highly  satisfied  with  the 
result 

36 


OF  THE  NEW  MOON  37 

As  the  New  Moon  staggered  out  to  sea  under  an  off- 
shore blow,  he  and  Twisty  Barlow  foregathered  in 
the  cabin  over  the  solitary  luckily  smuggled  bottle  of 
champagne. 

"The  day  is  auspicious,"  said  Kendric,  his  rumpled 
hair  on  end,  his  eyes  as  bright  as  the  dancing  water 
slapping  against  their  hull.  "With  a  hold  full  of  the 
best  in  the  land,  treasure  ahead  of  our  bow,  hunt- 
drum  lost  in  our  wake  and  a  seven- foot  nigger  hang- 
ing on  to  the  wheel,  what  more  could  a  man  ask?" 

"It's  a  cinch,"  agreed  Barlow.  But,  drinking  more 
slowly,  he  was  altogether  more  thoughtful.  "If  we 
get  there  on  time,"  was  his  one  worry.  "If  we'd  had 
that  ten  thousand  of  yours  we'd  never  have  sailed  in 
this  antedeluvian  raft  with  a  list  to  starboard  like  the 
tower  of  Pisa." 

"Don't  growl  at  the  hand  that  feeds  you  or  the  bot- 
tom that  floats  you,"  grinned  Kendric.  "It's  bad 
luck." 

Nor  was  Barlow  the  man  to  find  fault,  regret  fleet- 
ingly  though  he  did.  He  was  in  luck  to  get  his  hands 
on  any  craft  and  he  knew  it.  The  New  Moon  was 
an  unlovely  affair  with  a  bad  name  among  seamen 
who  knew  her  and  no  speed  or  up-to-date  engines  to 
brag  about;  but  Barlow  himself  had  leased  her  and 
had  no  doubts  of  her  seaworthiness.  She  was  one  of 
those  floating  relics  of  another  epoch  in  shipbuilding 
which  had  lingered  on  until  today,  undergoing  infre- 
quent alterations  under  many  hands.  While  once  she 
had  depended  entirely  for  her  headway  on  her  two 
poles,  fore  sail  set  flying,  now  she  lurched  ahead  an- 
swering to  the  drive  of  her  antiquated  internal  combus- 
tion motor.  An  essential  part  of  her  were  Nigger  Ben 
and  Philippino  Charlie;  they  knew  her  and  her  freak- 


38  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

ish  ways;  they  were  as  much  a  portion  of  her  lop- 
sided anatomy  as  were  propeller  and  wheel. 

Barlow  chuckled  as  he  explained  the  unwritten 
terms  of  his  lease. 

"Hank  Sparley  owns  her,"  he  said,  "and  the  day 
Hank  paid  real  money  for  her  is  the  first  day  the 
other  man  ever  got  up  earlier  than  Hank,  you  can 
gamble  on  it.  Now  Hank  gets  busy  gettin'  square 
and  he's  somehow  got  her  insured  for  more'n  she'll 
bring  in  the  open  market  in  many  a  day.  Hank  figures 
this  deal  either  of  two  ways;  either  I  run  her  nose 
into  the  San  Diego  slip  again  with  a  fat  fee  for  him; 
or  else  it's  Davy  Jones  for  the  New  Moon  and  Hank 
quits  with  the  insurance  money." 

"Know  what  barratry  is,  don't  you?"  demanded 
Kendric. 

"Sure  I  know;  if  I  didn't  Hank  would  have  told 
me."  Barlow  sipped  his  champagne  pleasantly.  "But 
we'll  bring  her  home,  never  you  fret,  Headlong.  And 
we'll  pay  the  fee  and  live  like  lords  on  top  of  it.  Hank 
ain't  frettin'.  I  spun  him  the  yarn,  seein'  I  had  to, 
and  he'd  of  come  along  himself  if  he  hadn't  been  sick. 
Which  would  have  meant  a  three  way  split  and  I'm 
just  as  glad  he  didn't." 

Kendric  went  out  on  deck  and  leaned  against  the 
wind  and  watched  the  water  slip  away  as  the  schooner 
rose  and  settled  and  fought  ahead.  Then  he  strolled 
to  the  stern  and  took  a  turn  at  the  wheel,  joying  in 
the  grip  of  it  after  a  long  separation  from  the  old  life 
which  it  brought  surging  back  into  his  memory.  And 
while  he  reaccustomed  himself  to  the  work  Nigger 
Ben  stood  by,  watching  him  jealously  and  at  first  with 
obvious  suspicion. 

Nigger  Ben,  as  Kendric  had  intimated,  was  a  man 
to  be  proud  of  on  a  cruise  like  this  one.  If  not  seven 


OF  THE  NEW  MOON  39 

feet  tall,  at  least  he  had  passed  the  half-way  mark 
between  that  and  six,  a  hulking,  full-blooded  African 
with  monster  shoulders  and  half -naked  chest  and  a 
skull  showing  under  his  close-cropped  kinks  like  a 
gorilla's.  He  was  an  anomaly,  all  taken:  he  had  a 
voice  as  high  and  sweet-toned  as  a  woman  singer's; 
he  had  an  air  of  extreme  brutality  and  with  the  animals 
on  board,  a  ship  cat  and  a  canary  belonging  to  Philip- 
pino  Charlie  he  was  all  gentleness ;  he  had  by  all  odds 
the  largest,  flattest  feet  that  Kendric  had  ever  seen 
attached  to  a  man  and  yet  on  them  he  moved  quickly 
and  lightly  and  not  without  grace;  he  held  the  New 
Moon  in  a  sort  of  ghostly  fear,  his  eyes  all  whites 
when  he  vowed  she  was  "ha'nted,"  and  yet  he  loved 
her  with  all  of  the  heart  in  his  big  black  body. 

"Sho',  she's  ha'nted !"  he  proclaimed  vigorously  after 
a  while  during  which  he  had  come  to  have  confidence 
in  the  new  steersman's  knowledge  and  had  been 
intrigued  into  conversation.  "Don't  I  know?  Black 
folks  knows  sooner'n  white  folks  about  ha'nts,  Cap'n. 
Ain't  I  heered  all  the  happenin's  dat's  done  been  an' 
gone  an*  transcribed  on  dis  here  deck?  Ain't  I  seen 
nothin'  ?  Ain't  I  felt  nothin'  ?  Ain't  I  spectated  when 
the  ha'r  on  Jezebel's  back  haz  riz  straight  up  an'  when 
she's  hunched  her  back  up  an'  spit  when  mos'  folks 
wouldn't  of  saw  nothin'  a-tall?  Sho',  she's  ha'nted; 
mos'  ships  is.  But  dem  ha'nts  ain'  goin'  bodder  me  so 
long's  I  don't  bodder  dem.  Dat's  gospel,  Cap'n  Jim; 
sho'  gospel." 

"It's  a  hand-picked  crew,  Twisty,"  conceded  Kendric 
mirthfully  when  Nigger  Ben  was  again  at  the  wheel 
and.  the  two  adventurers  paced  forward.  "The  kind 
to  have  at  hand  on  a  pirate  cruise !" 

For  Nigger  Ben  offered  both  amusement  during 
long  hours  and  skilful  service  and  no  end  of  muscular 


40  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

strength,  while,  in  his  own  way,  Charlie  was  a  jewel. 
A  king  of  cooks  and  a  man  to  keep  his  mouth  shut. 
When  left  to  himself  Charlie  muttered  incessantly 
under  his  breath,  his  mutter  ings  senseless  jargon. 
When  addressed  his  invariable  reply  was,  "Aw,"  prop- 
erly inflected  to  suit  the  occasion.  Thus,  with  a  shake 
of  the  head,  it  meant  no;  with  a  nod,  yes;  with  his 
beaming  smile,  anything  duly  enthusiastic.  He  was 
not  the  one  to  be  looked  to  for  treasons,  stratagems 
and  spoils.  His  favorite  diversion  was  whistling 
sacred  tunes  to  his  canary  in  the  galley. 

As  the  New  Moon  made  her  brief  arc  to  clear  the 
coast  and  sagged  south  through  tranquil  southern  days 
and  starry  nights,  Kendric  and  Barlow  did  much 
planning  and  voiced  countless  surmises,  all  having  to 
do  with  what  they  might  or  might  not  find.  Barlow 
got  out  his  maps  and  indicated  as  closely  as  he  could 
the  point  where  they  would  land,  the  other  point  some 
miles  inland  where  the  treasure  was. 

"Wild  land,"  he  said.  "Wild,  Jim,  every  foot  of  it. 
I've  seen  what  lies  north  of  it  and  I've  seen  what  lies 
south  of  it,  and  it's  the  devil's  own.  And  ours,  if 
Escobar's  fingers  haven't  crooked  to  the  feel  of  it.  And 
if  they  have,  why,  then,"  and  he  looked  fleetingly  to 
the  rifles  on  the  cabin  wall,  "it  belongs  to  the  man  who 
is  man  enough  to  walk  away  with  it!" 

More  in  detail  than  at  any  time  before  Twisty  Bar- 
low told  all  that  he  knew  of  the  rumor  which  they 
were  running  down.  Escobar  was  one  of  the  lawless 
captains  of  a  revolutionary  faction  who,  like  his  gen- 
eral, had  been  keeping  to  the  mountainous  out-of-the- 
way  places  of  Mexico  for  two  years.  In  Lower  Cali- 
fornia, together  with  half  a  dozen  of  his  bandit  fol- 
lowing, he  had  been  taking  care  of  his  own  skin  and 
at  the  same  time  lining  his  own  pockets.  It  was  a 


OF  THE  NEW  MOON  41 

time  of  outlawry  and  Fernando  Escobar  was  a  product 
of  his  time.  He  was  never  above  cutting  throats  for 
small  recompense,  if  he  glimpsed  safety  to  follow  the 
deed,  and  knew  all  of  the  tricks  of  holding  wealthy 
citizens  of  his  own  or  another  country  for  ransoms. 
Upon  one  of  his  recent  excursions  the  bandit  captain 
had  raided  an  old  mission  church  for  its  candlesticks. 
With  one  companion,  a  lieutenant  named  Juarez,  he 
had  made  so  thorough  a  job  of  tearing  things  to  pieces 
that  the  two  had  discovered  a  secret  which  had  lain 
hidden  from  the  passing  eyes  of  worshipful  padres 
for  a  matter  of  centuries.  It  was  a  secret  vault  in 
the  adobe  wall,  masked  by  a  canvas  of  the  Virgin. 
And  in  the  small  compartment  were  not  only  a  few 
minor  articles  which  Escobar  knew  how  to  turn  into 
money,  but  some  papers.  And  whenever  a  bandit,  of 
any  land  under  the  sun,  stumbles  upon  papers  secretly 
immured,  it  is  inevitable  that  he  should  hastily  make 
himself  master  of  the  contents,  stirred  by  a  hope  of 
treasure. 

"And  right  enough,  he'd  found  it,"  said  Barlow 
holding  a  forgotten  match  over  his  pipe.  "If  there's 
any  truth  in  it  three  priests,  way  back  in  the  fifteen 
hundreds,  stumbled  onto  enough  pagan  swag  to  make 
a  man  cry  to  think  about  it.  Held  it  accursed,  I  guess. 
And  didn't  need  it  just  then  in  their  business,  any 
way.  Just  what  is  it  ?  I  don't  know.  Juarez  himself 
didn't  know;  Captain  Escobar  let  him  get  just  so  far 
and  decided  to  hog  the  whole  thing  and  slipped  six 
inches  of  knife  into  him.  How  the  poor  devil  lived 
to  morning,  I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care  to  think 
about  it.  But  live  he  did  and  spilled  me  the  yarn, 
praying  to  God  every  other  gasp  that  I'd  beat  Fernando 
Escobar  to  it.  He  said  he  had  seen  names  there  to 
set  any  man  dreaming;  the  name  of  Montezuma  and 


42  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Guatomotzin ;  of  Cortes  and  others.  He  figured  that 
there  was  Aztec  gold  in  it;  that  the  three  old  priests 
had  somehow  tumbled  on  to  the  hiding  place;  that 
they  three  planned  to  keep  the  knowledge  among  them- 
selves and,  when  they  devoutly  judged  the  time  was 
right,  to  pass  the  news  on  to  the  Church  in  Spain. 

"I  wish  Juarez  had  had  time  to  read  the  whole 
works,"  meditated  Barlow.  "Anyway  he  read  enough 
and  guessed  enough  on  top  of  it  for  me  to  guess  most 
of  the  rest  while  I've  been  millin'  around,  getting  goin'. 
Two  of  the  three  priests  died  in  a  hurry  at  about 
the  same  time,  leavin'  the  other  priest  the  one  man  in 
on  the  know.  There  was  some  sort  of  a  plague  got 
'em;  he  was  scared  it  was  gettin'  him,  too.  So  he 
starts  in  makin'  a  long  report  to  the  home  church, 
which  if  he  had  finished  would  have  been  as  long  as 
your  arm  and  would  of  been  packed  off  to  Spain 
and  that  would  of  been  the  last  you  and  me  ever  heard 
of  it.  But  it  looks  like,  when  he'd  written  as  far  as 
he  got,  he  maybe  felt  rotten  and  put  it  away,  intendin' 
to  finish  the  job  the  next  day.  And  the  plague,  small- 
pox or  whatever  it  was,  finished  him  first." 

"Fishy  enough,  by  the  sound  of  it,  isn't  it?"  mused 
Kendric. 

"Fishy,  your  hat !  There's  folks  would  say  fishy  to 
a  man  that  stampeded  in  sayin'  he'd  found  a  gold  mine. 
Me,  while  they  guyed  him,  I'd  go  take  a  look-see. 
And  it  didn't  read  fishy  to  Juarez  and  it  didn't  to 
Fernando  Escobar,  else  why  the  six  inches  of  knife?" 

"Well/'  said  Kendric,  "we'll  know  soon  enough.  If 
you  can  find  your  way  to  the  place  all  right?" 

"Juarez  had  a  noodle  on  him,"  grunted  Barlow. 
"And  he  was  as  full  of  hate  as  a  tick  of  dog's  blood. 
From  the  steer  he  gave  me  I  can  find  the  place  all 
right." 


OF  THE  NEW  MOON  43 

Days  and  nights  went  by  monotonously,  routine 
merely  varying  to  give  place  to  pipe-in-mouth  idle- 
ness. But  the  third  night  out  came  an  occurrence  to 
break  the  placidity  of  the  voyage  for  Kendric,  and 
both  to  startle  him  and  set  him  puzzling.  He  was  out 
on  deck  in  a  steamer  chair  which  he  had  had  the  lazy 
forethought  to  bring,  his  feet  cocked  up  on  the  rail, 
his  eyes  on  the  vague  expanse  about  him.  There  was 
no  moon ;  the  sky  was  starlit.  Barlow  had  said  "Good 
night"  half  an  hour  before;  Philippino  Charlie  was 
muttering  over  the  wheel;  Nigger  Ben's  voice  was 
crooning  from  the  galley  where  he  was  making  a 
friendly  call  on  the  canary.  The  water  slipped  and 
slapped  and  splashed  alongside,  making  pleasant  music 
in  the  ears  of  a  man  who  gave  free  rein  to  his  fancies 
and  let  them  soar  across  a  handful  of  centuries,  back 
into  the  golden  day  of  the  last  of  the  Aztec  Emperors. 
The  Montezumas  had  had  vast  hoards  of  gold  in 
nuggets  and  dust  and  hammered  ornaments  and  ves- 
sels ;  history  vouched  for  that  And  it  stood  to  reason 
that  the  princes  and  nobles,  fearing  the  ultimate  re- 
sult of  the  might  of  the  Spaniards,  would  have  taken 
steps  to  secrete  some  of  their  treasure  before  the  end 
came.  Why  not  somewhere  in  Lower  California,  hur- 
ried away  by  caravan  and  canoe  to  a  stronghold  far 
from  doomed  Mexico  City? 

He  was  conscious  now  of  no  step  upon  the  deck, 
no  sound  to  mar  the  present  serene  fitness  of  things. 
But  out  of  his  dreamings  he  was  drawn  back  abruptly 
to  the  swaying,  swinging  deck  of  a  crazy  schooner  by 
the  odd,  vague  feeling  that  he  was  not  alone. 

"Barlow,"  he  called  quietly.     "That  you?" 

There  was  no  answer  and  yet,  stronger  than  before, 
was  the  certainty  that  someone  was  near  at  hand,  that 
a  pair  of  eyes  were  regarding  him  through  the 


44  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

obscurity  of  the  night  So  strong  was  the  emotion, 
and  so  strongly  did  it  recall  the  emotion  of  a  few  nights 
ago  when  he  had  felt  the  influence  of  a  strange 
woman's  eyes,  that  he  leaped  to  his  feet.  On  the  in- 
stant he  half  expected  to  see  Zoraida  Castelmar  stand- 
ing at  his  elbow. 

What  he  saw,  or  thought  that  he  saw,  was  a  vague 
figure  standing  against  the  rail  across  the  deck  from 
him,  beyond  the  corner  of  the  cabin  wall.  A  luminous 
pair  of  eyes,  glowing  through  the  dark.  Kendric  was 
across  the  deck  in  a  flash.  No  one  was  there.  He 
raced  sternward,  whisked  around  the  pile  of  freight 
cluttered  about  the  mast,  tripped  over  a  coil  of  rope 
and  ran  forward  again.  When  he  still  found  no  one, 
so  strong  was  the  impression  made  on  him  that  some- 
one had  been  standing  looking  at  him,  he  made  a  stub- 
born search  from  prow  to  stern.  Barlow  was  in  bed 
and  looked  to  be  asleep;  the  Philippino  was  muttering 
over  the  wheel  and  when  Kendric  demanded  to  know 
if  he  had  seen  anything  said  ,"Aw,"  negatively ;  Nigger 
Ben  had  given  over  singing  and  was  feeding  the 
canary  and  freshening  its  water  supply. 

Afterwards  Kendric  realized  that  all  the  time  while 
he  was  racing  madly  up  and  down,  peering  into  cabin 
and  galley  and  nook  and  corner,  there  had  been  a  clear 
image  standing  uppermost  in  his  mind;  the  picture 
of  Zoraida  Castelmar  as  she  had  stood  and  looked 
at  him  when  she  had  said,  "I  have  put  a  charm  and  a 
spell  over  your  life."  Now  he  simply  knew  that  he 
had  the  mad  thought  that  she  was  somewhere  on  board 
and  that,  hide  as  she  would,  he  would  find  her.  But 
when  he  gave  up  and  went  sullenly  back  to  his  toppled 
chair,  he  knew  that  all  he  had  succeeded  in  was  in 
making  both  Nigger  Ben  and  Philippino  Charlie  marvel. 
Nigger  Ben,  he  thought  sullenly,  had  come  close 


OF  THE  NEW  MOON  45 

enough  to  understanding  something  of  what  was  in 
his  mind.  For  the  giant  African  rolled  his  eyes 
whitely  and  said: 

"Ha'nts,  Cap'n  Jim?    You  been  seem'  ha'nts,  too?" 

"What  makes  you  say  that,  Ben?"  demanded  Ken- 
dric.  "Did  you  see  anything?" 

Nigger  Ben  looked  fairly  inflated  with  mysterious 
wisdom.  But,  thought  Kendric,  what  negro  who 
ever  lived  would  have  denied  having  seen  something 
ghostly?  Kendric  had  searched  thoroughly  high  and 
low ;  he  had  turned  over  big  crates  below  deck,  he  had 
peered  up  the  masts.  Now,  before  settling  himself 
back  in  his  chair,  he  looked  in  on  Barlow  again.  Twisty 
was  turning  over;  his  eyes  were  open. 

"I  don't  want  any  funny  business,"  said  Kendric 
sternly.  "Did  you  smuggle  Zoraida  Castelmar  on 
board?" 

Barlow  blinked  at  him. 

"Who  the  blazes  is  Zoraida  Castelmar?"  he  coun- 
tered. "The  cat  or  the  canary?" 

Kendric  grunted  and  went  out,  plumping  himself 
down  in  his  chair.  He  supposed  that  he  had  imagined 
the  whole  thing.  He  had  not  seen  anything  definitely ; 
he  had  merely  felt  that  eyes  were  watching  him ;  what 
had  seemed  a  figure  across  deck  might  have  been  the 
oil  coat  hanging  on  a  peg  or  a  curtain  blowing  out 
of  a  window.  The  more  he  thought  over  the  matter 
the  more  assured  was  he  that  he  had  allowed  his 
imaginings  to  make  a  fool  of  him.  And  by  the  time 
the  sun  flooded  the  decks  next  morning  he  was  ready 
to  forget  the  episode. 

They  rounded  San  Lucas  one  morning,  turned  north 
into  the  gulf  and  steered  into  La  Paz  where  Barlow 
said  he  hoped  to  get  a  line  on  Escobar  and  where  they 


46  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

allowed  custom  officials  an  opportunity  to  assure  them- 
selves that  no  contraband  in  the  way  of  much  dreaded 
rifles  and  ammunition  were  being  carried  into  restive 
Sonora.  "Loco  Gringoes  out  after  burro  deer,"  was 
how  the  officials  were  led  to  judge  them.  Barlow,  gone 
several  hours,  reported  that  Escobar  had  not  turned  up 
at  the  waterfront  dives  to  which,  according  to  the 
murdered  Juarez,  he  reported  now  and  then  to  keep  in 
touch  with  his'outlaw  commander.  Steering  out  again 
through  the  fishing  craft  and  harbor  boats,  they 
pounded  the  New  Moon  on  toward  Port  Adventure. 

Then  came  at  last  the  night  when  Barlow,  looking 
hard  mouthed  and  eager,  announced  that  in  a  few 
hours  they  would  drop  anchor  and  go  ashore  to  see 
what  they  would  see.  Nigger  Ben  and  Philippino 
Charlie  were  instructed  gravely.  They  were  to  remain 
on  board  and  were  to  maintain  a  suspicious  reserve 
toward  all  strangers,  denying  them  foothold  on  deck. 

"The  gents  who'd  be  apt  to  make  you  a  call,"  Bar- 
low told  them  impressively,  "would  cut  your  throats 
for  a  side  of  bacon.  You  boys  keep  watches  day  and 
night.  When  we  get  back  into  San  Diego  Bay,  if  you 
do  your  duties,  you  both  get  fifty  dollars  on  top  of 
your  wages." 

It  was  shortly  before  they  hoisted  the  anchor  over- 
board to  wait  for  dawn  that  for  the  second  time 
Kendric  felt  again  that  oddly  disturbing  sense  of 
hidden  eyes  spying  at  him.  Again  he  was  alone,  stand- 
ing forward,  peering  into  the  darkness,  trying  to  make 
some  sort  of  detail  out  of  the  black  wall  ahead  which 
Barlow  had  told  him  was  a  long  line  of  cliff.  As 
before  Charlie  was  at  the  wheel  while  Nigger  Ben 
was  listening  to  instructions  from  Barlow  aft  of  the 
cabin.  The  voices  came  faint  against  the  gulf  wind 
to  Kendric,  The  words  he  did  not  hear  since  all  of 


OF  THE  NEW  MOON  47 

his  mental  force  was  bent  to  determine  what  it  was 
that  gave  him  that  uncanny  feeling  of  eyes,  the  eyes 
of  Zoraida  Castelmar,  in  the  dark. 

This  time  he  was  guarded  in  his  actions.  He  stood 
still  a  moment,  his  jaw  set,  only  his  eyes  turning  to 
right  and  left.  As  he  had  asked  himself  countless 
times  already  so  now  did  he  put  the  question  again: 
"How  could  a  man  feel  a  thing  like  that?"  At  his  age 
was  he  developing  nerves  and  insane  fancies?  At 
any  rate  the  sensation  was  strong,  compelling.  Mak- 
ing no  sound,  he  turned  and  stared  into  the  darkness 
on  all  sides.  He  saw  no  one. 

Suddenly,  startling  him  so  that  his  taut  muscles 
jumped  involuntarily,  came  an  excited  shout  from 
Nigger  Ben. 

"Ha'nts,  Cap'n  Barlow!  Oh,  my  Gawd,  save  me 
now !  Looky  dar !  Looky  dar !  It's  a  lady  g-g-ghost ! 
Oh,  my  Gawd,  save  me  now !" 

Kendric  ran  back.  Nigger  Ben  was  clutching  wildly 
at  Barlow's  arm. 

"You  superstitious  old  fool/'  growled  Barlow.  "It's 
only  that  piece  of  torn  sail  flappin'  that  Charlie  was 
goin'  to  sew.  Can't  you  see?  I  thought  you  weren't 
afraid  of  the  New  Moon's  ha'nts,  any  way." 

Nigger  Ben  shifted  his  big  feet  uneasily  and  little 
by  little  crept  forward  to  look  at  the  flapping  bit  of 
sail  cloth.  Slowly  his  courage  returned  to  him.  He 
hadn't  been  afraid  at  all,  he  declared,  but  just  sort  of 
shook  up,  seeing  the  thing  all  of  a  sudden  that  way. 
Kendric  passed  on  as  though  nothing  had  happened, 
as  he  reasoned  perhaps  nothing  had.  But  just  the 
same  he  made  his  second  quiet  search,  in  the  end  find- 
ing nothing.  But  as  he  went  back  to  his  place  up 
deck  he  turned  the  matter  over  and  over  in  mind 
stubbornly.  Coincidences  were  all  right  enough,  but 


48  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

reasonable  explanations  lay  back  of  them.    If  a  man 
could  only  see  just  where  the  explanation  lay. 

He  sought  to  reason  logically;  if  in  truth  someone 
had  been  standing  looking  at  him,  if  Nigger  Ben  had 
seen  something  other  than  the  flapping  canvas,  then 
that  someone  or  something  had  gone  aboard  the  New 
Moon  at  San  Diego  and  had  made  the  entire  cruise 
with  them.  That  could  hardly  have  been  done  without 
Barlow's  knowledge.  Two  points  struck  him  then. 
First,  Barlow  had  demanded  who  Zoraida  Castelmar 
was;  had  not  Barlow  even  learned  the  name  of  the  girl 
of  the  pearls?  Second,  it  recurred  to  him  that  Bar- 
low had  followed  her  to  the  hotel  in  the  border  town, 
had  even  had  word  with  her,  since  he  had  brought 
Kendric  a  message.  Why  had  Barlow  gone  to  the 
hotel  at  all?  His  explanation  at  the  time  had  been 
reasonable  enough;  he  had  said  that  he  had  gone  to 
get  a  room.  But  now  Kendric  remembered  how  Bar- 
low, on  that  same  night,  had  expressed  his  determina- 
tion to  be  riding  by  moonrise!  What  would  he  have 
done  with  a  hotel  room? 

But  slowly  the  dawn  was  coming,  the  ragged  shore 
was  revealing  itself,  Barlow  was  calling  for  help  with 
the  small  boat.  Kendric  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
kept  his  mouth  shut. 


CHAPTER  IV 

INDICATING  THAT  THAT  WHICH  APPEARS  THE  EARTHLY 

PARADISE  MAY  PROVE  QUITE  ANOTHER 

SORT  OF  PLACE 

A  STRIP  of  white  beach  three  hundred  feet  long,  a 
score  of  paces  across  at  its  widest,  with  black  barren 
cliffs  guarding  it  and  the  faint  pink  dawn  slowly  grow- 
ing a  deeper  rose  over  it,  such  was  the  port  of  ad- 
venture into  which  nosed  the  row  boat  bringing  Jim 
Kendric  and  Twisty  Barlow  treasure  seeking.  In  the 
stern  crouched  Nigger  Ben,  come  ashore  in  order  to 
row  the  boat  back  to  the  New  Moon,  his  eyes  bulging 
with  wonderment  that  men  should  come  all  the  way 
from  San  Diego  to  disembark  upon  so  solitary  a  spot 
The  dingey  shoved  its  nose  into  the  sand,  Kendric 
and  Barlow  carrying  their  small  packs  and  rifles 
sprang  out,  Nigger  Ben  shook  his  head  and  pushed  off 
again. 

"Up  the  cliffs  the  easiest  way,"  cried  Barlow,  his 
eyes  shining  with  excitement.  "Up  there  I'll  get  my 
bearin's  and  we'll  steer  a  straight-string  line  for 
what's  ahead,  Headlong,  old  mate!  Step  lively  is 
the  word  now  while  it's  cool.  And  by  noon,  if  we're 
in  luck " 

He  left  the  rest  to  any  man's  imagination  and 
hastened  across  the  sand  and  to  the  rock  wall.  But 
more  forbidding  than  ever  rose  the  cliffs  against  the 
path  of  men  who  did  not  know  their  every  crevice, 
and  it  was  full  day  and  the  sun  was  up  before  they 

49 


50  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

came  panting  to  the  top.  Down  went  packs,  with  two 
heaving-chested,  bright-eyed  men  atop  of  them,  while 
Barlow,  compass  in  hand,  got  his  bearings. 

The  devil's  own  he  had  named  this  country  from 
afar;  the  devil's  own  it  extended  itself,  naked  and 
dry  and  desolate  before  their  questing  eyes,  a  weary 
land,  sun-smitten,  broken,  looking  deserted  of  God 
and  man.  As  far  as  they  could  see  there  were  no 
trees,  little  growth  of  any  kind,  no  birds,  no  grazing 
beasts.  Just  swell  after  swell  of  arid  lands,  here  and 
there  cut  by  ancient  gorges,  tumbled  over  by  heaps 
of  black  rocks,  swept  clean  of  dust  on  the  high  places 
by  racing  winds,  piled  high  with  sand  and  small  stones 
in  the  depressions.  Where  growing  things  thrust  up 
•their  heads,  they  were  the  harsh,  fanged  and 
envenomed  growth  of  desert  places.  The  place  had 
an  air  of  unholiness  in  the  light  of  the  new  day.  A 
thorn,  as  Barlow  turned  carelessly,  tore  the  skin  on 
the  back  of  his  hand  painfully.  The  parent  stem  had 
an  evil  look  and  he  cursed  it  as  though  it  had  been 
a  conscious  malign  agent,  and  struck  at  it  with  his 
clubbed  rifle.  From  the  place  where  the  branch  was 
wrenched  away  exuded  a  slow  red  sticky  ooze  like 
coagulating  blood. 

'There's  our  course,"  announced  Barlow,  pointing, 
"with  half  a  dozen  hours  of  damned  unpleasant  walk- 
ing, according  to  poor  old  Juarez.  See  those  three 
peaks,  standing  up  together?  We  bear  a  little  off  to 
the  south  for  a  spell  and  then  straight  toward  'em. 
And  never  a  spring  until  we  get  there !  Look  out  you 
don't  poke  a  hole  in  your  canteen.'* 

"Ready,"  said  Jim.    "Let's  go." 

They  went  OIL  Now  that  a  new  phase  had  come 
into  their  quest,  with  the  days  of  distant  speculation 
giving  place  to  action  on  the  ground,  a  certain  differ- 


THE  EARTHLY  PARADISE  51 

ence  of  character  was  manifest  in  the  two  men.  A 
growing  taciturnity,  accompanied  by  deep  frowning 
thought  fulness,  locked  Barlow's  lips,  while  Kendric, 
to  whom  any  such  experience  was  always  primarily  a 
lark,  expanded  and  mounted  steadily  to  fresh  stages 
of  lightheartedness.  It  mattered  less  to  him  than  to 
his  companion  what  might  lie  at  the  end  of  their 
journey;  the  journey  itself  was  with  Jim  Kendric  the 
golden  thing.  He  felt  alive,  jubilant,  keenly  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  lure  and  zest  of  the  expedition.  He  felt 
like  singing,  would  no  doubt  have  sung  out  in  some 
wild  border  ballad  or  bit  of  deep  sea  melody  with  a 
piratical  swing  to  it,  had  he  not  been  half  the  time 
fairly  breathless  from  the  pace  they  maintained  over 
the  broken  country. 

In  a  couple  of  hours  they  left  behind  them  the  worst 
of  the  gorges  and  canons,  flinty  peaks  and  ridges,  and 
dropped  down  into  a  long  crooked  valley  floored  with 
dry  sand  ankle  deep  and  grown  over  with  a  gray  shrub 
plainly  akin  to  California  sage  brush.  Here  was  some 
scant  evidence  of  animal  life,  a  dusty  jack  rabbit,  a 
circling  buzzard,  a  thin  spotted  snake,  a  wild  pony 
with  up-flung  head  staring  at  them  from  the  further 
ridge,  gone  whisking  away  as  they  drew  on.  And 
they  came  to  trees  whose  shade  was  grateful,  oaks  and, 
later,  a  few  dusty  straggling  pinons.  Wisps  of  dry 
grass,  an  occasional  patch  of  flowering  weeds  or  taller 
plants,  a  flock  of  bewildered-looking  birds  that  had 
the  appearance  of  having  strayed  hitherward  by  mis- 
take. No  water,  no  sign  of  water;  no  man-owned 
herds,  no  sign  of  man.  The  open  valley  under  the 
high,  hot  sun  was  a  drearier  place  than  the  mountain 
slopes. 

Then  came  the  up-hill  climb  as  they  passed  out  of 
the  western  edge  of  the  sandy  flats,  a  steep  spur  of 


52  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN, 

the  cordillera,  a  region  silent  and  saturnine  and  un- 
thinkably  hot.  Three  times,  though  they  guarded 
against  profligacy  with  their  water,  they  unstoppered 
their  canteens  and  rested  in  the  shade  on  the  way  up. 
At  last  they  came  to  the  crest  of  the  barrier  of  the 
blistering  hills,  having  been  on  foot  for  a  full  five 
hours.  And  now,  for  the  first  time,  looking  forward, 
down  the  steep  slopes  and  across  the  miles,  they  saw 
the  Valley  of  Las  Flores,  the  place  of  flowers.  At 
first  it  was  hard  for  them  to  believe  that  their  eyes, 
which  the  desert  lands  befool  so  often  and  so  readily, 
had  not  tricked  them.  It  was  as  though  in  a  twinkling 
the  world  had  changed  about  them. 

The  long  wide  valley  below  was  one  sweep  of  green : 
fresh,  colorful,  cool  green.  Across  it  wandered  many 
cows  and  horses  and  donkeys,  browsing  where  the 
herbiage  was  lushest,  dozing  in  the  shade  of  the  wide- 
spread oaks,  standing  indolent  in  the  golden  sunshine. 
A  bright  stream  of  water  cut  the  emerald  sward  in 
two,  coming  from  the  bordering  mountains  at  one  end, 
gone  flashing  into  the  mountain-guarded  pass  at  the 
other.  From  a  distance  Kendric  heard  a  bird  singing 
away  like  mad  and  saw  the  sweep  and  flutter  of  a 
butterfly's  wing. 

"The  earthly  paradise!"  he  cried  admiringly. 

But  already  Barlow's  fixed  eyes  were  upon  the  moun- 
tainous country  across  the  valley. 

"Come  on,"  he  said,  slipping  his  pack-straps  over 
his  shoulders  and  swinging  up  his  rifle,  "It  would 
be  three  to  five  miles,  easy  going,  and  we're  there! 
There  are  our  three  peaks,  straight  across." 

Only  when  they  were  fairly  down  on  the  floor  of 
the  valley  did  they  see  the  ranch  houses.  There  were 
several,  a  big,  rambling  adobe  with  white-washed  walls, 
barns  and  smaller  outbuildings,  all  making  a  sizeable 


THE  EARTHLY  PARADISE  53 

group.  They  stood  in  an  oak  grove  at  the  opposite 
side  of  the  valley,  dose  to  the  common  bases  of  Bar- 
low's peaks.  The  two  men  stopped  and  looked, 
reflecting. 

"Neighbors,"  said  Kendric.  "They'll  be  wanting  to 
know  what  we're  about,  pottering  around  on  the  rim 
of  their  holding." 

"It's  anybody's  land  over  there,"  growled  Barlow. 
"They'd  best  keep  out  of  it." 

They  pushed  on  across  the  fields,  noting  casually 
how  they  were  all  leveled  and  ditched  for  irrigation, 
and  came  at  last  to  the  creek  where  they  rested  under 
an  oak  and  drank  deeply  and  smoked.  As  they  rose 
to  go  on  they  saw  four  horsemen  bearing  down  upon 
them  from  the  direction  of  the  ranch  houses. 

"Vacqueros,"  said  Barlow.  "They'll  be  wantin'  to 
know  if  we're  lost" 

"They  look  more  like  brigands  than  cow  men," 
grunted  Kendric.  "Every  man  jack  of  them  wears  a 
rifle.  And  they're  in  a  rush,  Twisty,  old  mate.  What 
will  you  bet  they  don't  herd  us  back  where  we  came 
from?" 

"Let  'em  try  it  on,"  Barlow  shot  back  at  him,  his 
eyes  narrowing  on  the  oncoming  riders.  "I'm  goin' 
to  roll  up  in  my  blanket  under  those  three  peaks  to- 
night if  the  whole  Mexican  army  shows  up." 

The  two  Americans  stopped  and  stood  ready  to 
ease  therr  shoulders  out  of  their  packs  and  start  pump- 
ing lead  if  the  newcomers  turned  out  to  be  half  the 
desperadoes  they  appeared.  "The  way  to  argue  with 
these  sort  of  gents,"  said  Barlow  contemptuously,  "is 
shoot  their  eyes  out  first  and  talk  next."  But  as  the 
foremost  of  the  little  cavalcade  drew  up  in  front  of 
them,  with  his  three  followers  curbing  their  horses 


54  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

a  few  paces  in  his  rear,  the  fellow's  greeting  was 
amazingly  hospitable. 

"Buenos  dias,,  amigos"  he  called  to  them.  But, 
though  he  hailed  them  in  the  name  of  friendship,  his 
eyes  were  sullen  and  gave  the  lie  to  his  speech.  "You 
would  be  fatigued  with  walking  across  the  cursed 
desert;  you  would  be  parched  with  thirst.  Yonder,'* 
and  he  pointed  toward  the  distant  white  walls,  "is  cool- 
ness and  pleasant  welcome  awaiting  you." 

His  followers  were  out-and-out  ragamuffins,  wild- 
looking  fellows  with  their  unshaven  cheeks  and 
tangled  hair  and  fierce  eyes.  Their  spokesman  stood 
apart  in  appearance  as  well  as  in  position,  being  some- 
what extravagantly  dressed,  showing  much  ornamenta- 
tion both  on  his  own  person  and  that  of  his  mount 
in  the  way  of  silver  buckles  and  spangles.  He  was 
the  youngest  of  the  "crowd,  not  over  twenty-two  or 
three  from  the  look  of  him,  with  a  nicely  groomed 
black  mustache.  The  horse  under  him  was  a  superb 
creature,  a  great  savage  fiery-eyed  sorrel  stallion. 

"Thanks,"  returned  Barlow.  "But  my  friend  and 
I  are  on  our  way  over  there/'  He  pointed.  "We  are 
students  of  entymology  and  are  study  in'  certain  new 
butterflies."  All  along,  until  the  very  moment,  he  had 
fully  intended  explaining  by  saying  they  were  on  a 
hunting  trip.  But  as  he  spoke  it  struck  him  that  the 
slopes  about  his  three  peaks  would  not  harbor  a  jack 
rabbit,  and  furthermore  on  the  instant  a  big  golden 
butterfly  went  flapping  by  him,  putting  the  idea  into 
his  head. 

The  young  Mexican  nodded  but  insisted. 

"There  will  be  time  for  butterfly  catching  tomor- 
row," he  said  carelessly.  "Today  you  will  honor  us 
by  riding  back  to  the  Hacienda  Montezuma.  You  are 
expected,  senores;  everything  is  prepared  for  you. 


THE  EARTHLY  PARADISE  55 

Oyez,  Pedro,  Juanito,"  turning  in  his  saddle  and  ad- 
dressing two  of  his  men.  "Rope  two  horses  and  let 
los  Americanos  have  yours."  And  when  both  Pedro 
and  Juanito  frowned  and  hesitated,  his  eyes  flashed 
and  he  cried  out  angrily  at  them :  "Pronto!  It  is  com- 
manded !" 

They  rode  away  toward  a  herd  of  horses  half  a  mile 
down  the  valley,  their  riatas  soon  in  their  hands  and 
widening  and  swinging  into  great  loops.  Presently  they 
were  back,  leading  two  captured  ponies.  Dismount- 
ing, they  made  impromptu  hackamores  of  their  ropes 
and  mounted  bareback,  leaving  their  own  saddles 
empty  for  Kendric  and  Barlow. 

"Look  here,  amigo,"  said  Kendric  then.  "We're 
much  obliged  for  the  kind  invitation.  But  you've 
got  the  wrong  guests.  If  your  outfit  was  expecting 
newcomers  it  was  someone  else." 

The  Mexican  lifted  his  fine  black  brows. 

"Then  are  you  not  Senores  Kendric  and  Barlow?" 
he  asked  impudently. 

They  stared  wonderingly  at  him,  then  at  each 
other. 

"You're  some  little  guesser,  stranger,"  grunted  Bar- 
low. "Who  told  you  all  you  know  ?" 

"Go  easy,  Twisty,"  laughed  Kendric,  his  interest 
caught.  Affably,  to  the  Mexican,  he  said:  "You're 
right,  senor.  And,  to  complete  the  introductions, 
would  you  mind  telling  us  who  you  are?" 

"I?"  He  touched  up  his  mustache  and  again  his 
eyes  flashed;  involuntarily,  as  he  spoke  his  name,  he 
laid  his  hand  on  the  grip  of  the  revolver  bumping  at 
his  hip,  giving  the  perfectly  correct  impression  that  the 
man  who  wore  that  name  must  ever  stand  ready  to 
defend  himself :  "I  am  Fernando  Escobar,  at  your 
service  for  what  you  please,  senor!" 


56  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Nerer  a  muscle  of  either  Kendric' 9  face  or  Bar- 
low's twitched  at  the  information  though  inwardly 
each  man  started.  Before  now,  many  times  in  the 
flood  of  their  tumultous  lives,  they  had  lived  through 
moments  when  the  thing  to  do  was  control  all  out- 
ward expression  of  emotion  and  think  fast. 

"I'd  say,  Twisty,"  said  Kendric  lightly,  "that  it  is 
downright  kind  of  Senor  Escobar  to  extend  so  hearty 
an  invitation.  It  would  be  the  pleasant  thing  to  rest 
up  in  the  shade  during  the  afternoon.  Tomorrow,  per- 
haps, it  could  be  arranged  that  he  would  let  us  have 
a  couple  of  horses  to  make  our  little  trip  into  the  hills 
butterfly-catching?" 

But  Barlow,  fingering  his  forelock,  looked  anything 
but  pleased.  His  eyes  went  swiftly  to  the  three  peaks 
across  the  valley,  then  frowning  up  the  valley  to  the 
ranch  houses.  Obviously,  he  meant  to  go  straight 
about  his  business,  all  the  more  eager  to  come  to  grips 
with  the  naked  situation  since  Escobar  was  on  the 
ground  and  had  made  himself  known.  He  opened  his 
lips  to  speak.  On  the  instant  Kendric  saw  a  swift, 
subtle  change  in  his  eyes,  a  look  of  surprise  and  of 
uncertainty.  And  then,  abruptly,  Barlow  said: 

"Oh,  all  right.  I'm  tired  hoofin'  it,  anyway,"  and 
swung  up  into  the  saddle  on  the  nearest  horse,  pack 
and  all. 

Escobar  wheeled  his  horse,  as  though  glad  to  have 
his  errand  done,  and  rode  back  toward  the  upper  end 
of  the  valley,  his  ragged  following  close  at  his  heels, 
Kendric  and  Barlow  bringing  up  the  rear. 

"What  was  it,  Twisty?"  demanded  Kendric  softly. 
"What  did  you  see?  What  made  you  change  your 
mind  all  of  a  sudden." 

"Look  at  the  cordillera  just  back  of  the  ranch  house, 
Jim,"  answered  Barlow,  guardedly. 


THE  EARTHLY  PARADISE  57 

Kendric  looked  and  in  a  moment  understood  Bar- 
low's perplexity.  There  again  were  three  upstand- 
ing peaks,  much  in  general  outline  and  height  like 
those  across  the  valley.  For  the  life  of  him  Barlow 
did  not  know  which  was  the  group  toward  which  he 
had  been  directed  by  Juarez  to  steer  his  course.  Doubt- 
less Escobar  did  know.  And  if  Escobar  were  going 
up  valley,  it  would  be  just  as  well  to  go  with  him. 

As  they  drew  near  the  big  adobe  house  both  men 
were  interested.  The  building  had  once  upon  a  time, 
perhaps  two  or  three  hundreds  of  years  ago,  been  a 
Spanish  mission;  so  much  was  told  eloquently  by  the 
lines  of  high  adobe  walls  ringing  the  buildings  and  by 
the  architecture  of  the  main  building  itself.  There 
were  columns,  arches,  corridors  after  the  old  mission 
style.  But  it  had  all  been  made  over,  added  to,  so 
that  it  was  now  a  residence  of  a  score  or  more  of 
rooms.  It  spread  out  covering  the  entire  top  of  a 
knoll  whereon  were  many  large  oaks.  At  the  back, 
rising  sharply,  was  the  barren  slope  of  the  mountain. 

Their  gaze  was  drawn  suddenly  from  the  house 
itself  to  a  rider  darting  out  through  the  high  arched 
gateway  in  the  adobe  wall  A  beautiful  horse,  snowy, 
glistening  white,  groomed  to  the  last  hair,  an  animal 
of  fine  thin  racing  forelegs  proudly  lifted  and  high- 
flung  head,  shot  out  of  the  shadows  like  a  shaft  of 
sunlight  On  its  back  what  at  first  appeared  an  ele- 
gantly dressed  young  man,  a  youth  even  fastidiously 
and  fancifully  accoutered,  with  riding  boots  that 
shone  and  a  flaunting  white  plume  and  red  lined  cape 
floating  wildly.  Only  when  the  approaching  rider 
came  close  and  threw  up  a  gauntleted  hand  to  the  wide 
black  hat,  saluting  laughingly,  did  they  recognize  this 
for  the  same  youth  who  had  come  with  Ruiz  Rios  to 
Ortega's  gambling  house. 


58  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Zoraida  Castelmar!"  gasped  Kendric. 

Turning  in  his  amazement  to  his  companion  he 
caught  a  strange  look  in  Barlow's  eyes,  a  strange  flush 
in  Barlow's  cheeks.  Then  he  saw  only  the  girl's  dark, 
passionate  face  and  scarlet  lips  and  burning  eyes  as 
she  called  softly: 

"Welcome  to  the  Hacienda  Montezuma!  The  gods 
have  willed  that  you  come.  The  gods  and  I !" 

And  into  Kendric' s  bewildered  face,  ignoring  Bar- 
low, she  laughed  triumphantly. 


CHAPTER  V 

HOW  ONE  NOT  ACCUSTOMED  TO  TAKING  ANOTHER 
RS   RECEIVES  TH 
OF  THE  QUEEN 


MAN'S  ORDERS   RECEIVES   THE  COMMAND 


HAD  horse  and  rider  been  only  a  painting,  immov- 
able upon  hung  canvas,  they  would  have  drawn  to 
themselves  the  enrapt  eyes  of  mute,  admiring  artists. 
Endowed  with  the  glorious  attribute  of  pulsating  life, 
they  fascinated.  Kendric  saw  the  white  mare's  neck 
arch,  marked  how  the  satiny  skin  rippled,  how  the 
dainty  ears  tipped  forward,  how  the  large  intelligent 
eyes  bespoke  the  proud  spirit.  He  could  fancy  the 
mare  prancing  forth  from  the  stables  of  an  Eastern 
prince,  the  finest  pure  bred  Arabian  of  his  stud,  the 
royal  favorite,  the  white  queen-rose  of  his  costly 
gardens.  From  the  mare  he  looked  to  the  rider,  not  so 
much  as  a  man  may  regard  a  woman  but  as  he  must 
pay  tribute  to  animal  perfection.  He  told  himself  that 
as  a  woman  Zoraida  Castelmar  displeased  him ;  that 
there  was  no  place  in  his  fancies  for  the  bold  eyes  of 
an  adventuress.  But  he  deemed  a  man  might  look 
upon  her  as  impersonally  as  upon  the  white  mare,  giv- 
ing credit  where  credit  was  due.  It  struck  him  then 
that  all  that  was  wrong  with  Zoraida  Castelmar  was 
that  she  was  an  anachronism;  that  had  he  lived  a 
thousand  years  ago  and  had  she  then,  a  barbaric  queen, 
stepped  before  him,  he  would  have  seen  the  superb 
beauty  of  her  and  would  have  gone  no  further.  Be- 
fore now  he  had  felt  that  she  was  "foreign."  That 

59 


60  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

was  On  the  border.  Here,  deep  in  Old  Mexico,  she 
still  remained  foreign.  Rightly  she  belonged  to  an- 
other age,  if  not  to  another  star. 

For  the  moment  she  sat  smiling  at  him,  her  eyes 
dancing  and  yet  masking  her  ultimate  thought. 
Triumph  he  had  glimpsed  and,  as  always,  a  shadowy 
hint  of  mockery.  Suddenly  she  turned  from  him  and 
put  out  her  gauntleted  hand  to  Barlow,  flashing  him 
another  sort  of  smile,  one  that  made  Barlow's  eyes 
brighten  and  brought  a  hotter  flush  to  his  tanned 
cheeks. 

"You  have  kept  your  promise  with  me/'  she  said 
softly.  "I  shall  not  forget  and  you  will  not  regret!" 
Even  while  she  spoke  her  eyes  drifted  back  to  Kendric, 
laughing  at  him,  taunting  him. 

He  looked  sharply  at  Barlow.  But  he  said  nothing 
and  Barlow,  intent  upon  the  girl,  did  not  note  his 
turned  head. 

Zoraida  turned  imperiously  upon  Fernando  Escobar. 

"These  men  are  my  guests,"  she  said  sharply,  her 
tone  filled  with  defiant  warning.  "Remember  that, 
Senor  el  Capitan.  You  will  escort  them  to  the  house 
where  my  cousin  will  receive  them.  Until  we  meet  at 
table,  sefiores  all." 

From  her  neck  hung  a  tiny  whistle  from  a  thin  gold 
chain;  she  lifted  it  to  her  lips,  blew  a  long  clear  note 
and  with  a  last  sidelong  look  at  Kendric  touched  her 
dainty  spurs  to  her  mare's  sides  and  shot  away. 

"You  will  follow  me,"  said  Escobar  stiffly.  "This 
way,  caballeros" 

He  pressed  by  them,  dismissing  his  following  with 
a  glance,  and  rode  through  the  wide  arched  gateway. 
Barlow  turned  in  after  him  but  hesitated  when  Ken- 
dric called  coolly: 

"I  have  small  hankering  to  accept  the  lady's  hos- 


THE  COMMAND  OF  THE  QUEEN       61 

pitality,  Barlow.  Why  should  we  establish  ourselves 
here  instead  of  going  on  about  our  business?  By  the 
lord,  her  invitation  smacks  to  me  too  damned  much  of 
outright  command!'* 

"No  use  startin'  anything,  Jim,"  said  Barlow. 
"Come  ahead." 

At  them  both  Escobar  smiled  contemptuously. 

"Look,"  he  said,  pointing  toward  the  adobe.  "Judge 
if  it  be  wise  to  hesitate  when  la  senorifo  reina  says 
enter." 

They  saw  graveled  driveways  and  flower  bor- 
dered walks  under  the  oaks;  blossoming,  fragrant 
shrubs  welcoming  countless  birds ;  an  expanse  of  velvet 
lawn  with  a  marble-rimmed  pool  and  fountain.  A 
beautiful  garden,  empty  one  instant,  then  slowly  fill- 
ing as  from  about  a  far  corner  of  the  house  came  a 
line  of  men.  Young  men,  every  one  of  them,  fine- 
looking,  dark-skinned  fellows  dressed  after  the 
extravagant  fashion  of  the  land  which  mothered  them, 
with  tall  conical  hats  and  slashed  trousers,  broad  sashes 
and  glistening1  boots.  They  came  on  like  military 
squads,  silent,  erect,  eyes  full  ahead.  Out  in  the  drive- 
way they  halted,  fifty  of  them.  And  like  one  man, 
they  aakrtedL 

"Will  you  enter  as  a  guest?"  jeered  Escobar. 

Kendric's  anger  flared  up. 

"I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  my  fine  friend  Fernando 
Escobar,"  he  said  hotly,  "I  don't  like  the  cut  of  your 
sunny  disposition.  You  and  I  are  not  going  to  mix 
well,  and  you  may  as  well  know  it  from  the  start 
As  for  this  'guest'  business,  just  what  do  you  mean?" 

Escobar  shrugged  elaborately  and  half  veiled  his 
insolent  eyes  with  the  long  lashes. 

"You  mean/'  went  on  Kendric  stubbornly,  "your 


62  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

'Queen  Lady*  as  you  call  her,  has  instructed  her  rabble 
to  bring  us  in,  willy-nilly?" 

"Ai !"  cried  Escobar  in  mock  surprise,  "El  Ameri- 
cano reads  the  secret  thought !" 

"Come  ahead,  Jim,"  urged  Barlow  anxiously. 
"Don't  I  tell  you  there  is  no  sense  startin'  a  rumpus? 
Suppose  you  weeded  out  half  t  of  'em,  the  other  half 
would  get  you  right.  And  haven't  we  got  enough 
ahead  of  us  without  goin'  out  of  our  way,  lookin'  for 
a  row?" 

For  answer  Kendric  gave  his  horse  the  spur  and 
dashed  through  the  gate.  If  a  man  had  to  tie  into 
fifty  of  a  hard-looking  lot  of  devils  like  those  saturnine 
henchmen  of  Zoraida,  it  would  at  least  be  a  scrimmage 
worth  a  man's  going  down  in;  but  Barlow  was  right 
and  there  was  no  doubt  enough  trouble  coming  with- 
out wandering  afield  for  it. 

So,  close  behind  Escobar,  they  rode  under  the  oaks 
and  to  the  house.  Here  was  a  quadrangle,  flanked 
about  with  white  columns;  through  numerous  arches 
one  saw  oaken  doors  set  into  the  thick  walls  of  the 
shaded  building.  The  three  men  dismounted ;  three  of 
the  men  in  the  driveway  took  the  horses.  Escobar 
stepped  to  the  broad  double  door  directly  in  front  of 
them.  As  his  spurred  boot  rang  on  the  stone  floor 
the  door  opened  and  Ruiz  Rios  opened  to  them.  He 
bowed  deeply,  courteously,  his  manner  cordial,  his 
eyes  inscrutable. 

At  his  invitation  they  entered.  He  led  them  through 
a  great,  low-ceiled  room  where  dim  light  hovered  over 
luxurious  appointments,  across  Oriental  rugs  and 
hardwood  floors  to  a  wide  hallway.  Down  this  for  a 
long  way,  past  a  dozen  doors  at  each  hand  and  finally 
into  a  suite  looking  out  into  the  gardens  from  a  corner 
of  the  building.  As  they  went  in,  two  Mexican  girls, 


THE  COMMAND  OF  THE  QUEEN       63 

young  and  pretty,  with  quick  black  eyes  and  in  white 
caps  and  aprons,  came  out.  The  girls  dropped  their 
eyes,  curtsied  and  passed  on,  as  silent  as  little  ghosts. 

"Your  rooms,  sefiores,"  said  Rios,  standing  aside  for 
them.  "When  you  are  ready  you  will  ring  and  a  ser- 
vant will  show  you  to  the  patio,  where  I  will  be  wait- 
ing for  you.  If  there  is  anything  forgotten,  you  have 
but  to  ring  and  ask." 

He  left  them  and  hurried  away,  obviously  glad  to 
be  done  with  them.  They  went  in  and  closed  the  door 
and  looked  about  them.  Here  were  big  leather  chairs, 
a  mahogany  table,  cigars,  smoking  trays,  cigarets,  a 
bottle  of  brandy  and  one  of  fine  red  wine  standing 
forth  hospitably.  Through  one  door  they  saw  an 
artistically  and  comfortably  furnished  bedroom; 
through  another  a  tiled,  glisteningly  white  bath;  be- 
yond the  bath  the  second  bedroom. 

All  this  they  marked  at  a  glance.  Then  Kendric 
turned  soberly  to  his  companion. 

"I've  known  you  a  good  many  years  off  and  on, 
Twisty,"  he  said  bluntly,  "for  the  sort  of  man  to  name 
pardner  and  friend.  For  half  a  dozen  years,  however, 
I've  seen  little  of  you.  What  have  those  half-dozen 
years  done  to  you?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Barlow. 

"I  mean  that  for  a  mate  on  a  crazy  expedition  like 
this  I  want  a  man  I  can  tie  to.  That  means  a  man 
that  turns  off  every  card  from  the  top,  straight  as  they 
come.  A  man  that  doesn't  bury  the  ace.  I  haven't 
held  out  anything  on  you.  What  have  you  held  out 
on  me?" 

Barlow  looked  troubled.  He  uncorked  the  brandy 
bottle  and  helped  himself,  sipping  slowly. 

"You've  got  in  mind  what  she  said  outside?"  he 
asked. 


64  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Yes.    That  and  other  things." 

"If  I  had  told  you  at  the  beginnin',"  said  Barlow, 
"that  you  and  me  were  comin'  to  a  place,  lookin'  for 
treasure,  that  was  right  next  door  to  where  Zoraida 
Castelmar  lived,  would  you  of  come?" 

"No.    I  don't  think  I  would" 

"Well,  that's  why  I  didn't  tell  you." 

"And  you  promised  her — just  what?" 

"That  I'd  be  showin'  up  down  this  way.  And  that 
you'd  be  comin'  along  with  me."  He  finished  off  his 
brandy  and  set  his  glass  down  hard. 

Kendric  took  a  cigaret  and  wandered  across  the 
room,  looking  out  into  the  gardens.  The  string  of 
men  who  had  appeared  at  Zoraida's  whistle,  were 
filing  off  around  the  house  again,  going  toward  the 
nearby  outbuildings. 

"I'm  not  going  to  pump  questions  at  fyou,  Barlow," 
he  said  without  turning.  "What  you  do  is  up  to  you. 
Only,  if  you  can't  play  the  game  straight  with  me, 
our  trails  fork  for  good  and  all.  Now,  let's  get  a  bath 
and  see  the  dance  through." 

Five  minutes  later  Jim  Kendric,  splashing  mightily 
in  a  roomy  tub,  began  to  sing  under  his  breath.  After 
all,  matters  were  well  enough.  Life  was  not  dull  but 
infinitely  profligate  of  promise.  He  fancied  that  Ruiz 
Rios  was  boiling  inwardly  with  rage;  the  thought  de- 
lighted him.  His  old  zest  flooded  back  full  tide  into 
his  veins.  His  voice  rose  higher,  his  lively  tune 
quickened.  Barlow's  face  brightened  at  the  sound  and 
his  lungs  filled  to  a  sigh  of  relief. 

Within  half  an  hour  a  servant  ushered  them  into 
the  patio.  There,  under  a  grape  arbor,  their  chairs 
drawn  close  up  to  the  little  fountain,  were  Rios  and 
Escobar,  talking  quietly.  Both  men  rose  as  they  ap- 
peared, offering  jchairs.  Both  were  all  that  was 


THE  COMMAND  OF  THE  QUEEN       65 

courteous  and  yet  it  needed  no  guessing  to  understand 
that  their  courtesy  was  but  like  so  much  thin  silken 
sheathing  over  steel ;  they  were  affable  only  because  of 
a  command.  And  that  command,  Zoraida's. 

"As  far  as  they  are  concerned,"  mused  Kendric, 
"she  is  absolutely  the  Queen  Lady.  Wonder  how  she 
works  it?  Wouldn't  judge  either  one  of  them  an  easy 
gent  to  handle." 

The  conversation  was  markedly  impersonal.  They 
spoke  of  stock  raising,  of  the  best  breeds  of  beef  cattle, 
of  what  had  been  done  with  irrigation  and  of  what 
Rios  planned  for  another  year.  It  became  clear  that 
Zoraida  was  the  sole  owner  of  several  thousand  fair 
acres  here  and  that  Riuz  Rios  stood  in  the  position  of 
general  manager  to  his  cousin.  That  he  envied  her 
her  possessions,  that  it  galled  him  to  be  her  underling 
over  these  acres,  was  a  fact  which  lay  naked  on  top 
of  many  mere  surmises.  Once,  with  simulated  care- 
lessness, Escobar  said: 

"The  rancho  would  have  been  yours,  had  there  been 
no  will,  is  it  not  so,  amigo  Rios  ?"  And  Ruiz  flashed 
an  angry  look  at  him,  knowing  that  the  man  taunted 
him. 

"It  is  called  the  Rancho  Montezuma,  isn't  it?"  put 
in  Kendric.  "Why  that  name,  Rios?" 

"It  is  the  old  name,"  said  Rios  lightly.  "That  is  all 
I  know." 

When  a  servant  announced  dinner  they  went  to  an 
immense  dining-room  wherein  a  prince  might  have 
taken  his  state  meals.  But  Zoraida  did  not  join  them, 
sending  word  by  one  of  the  little  Mexican  maids  that 
she  would  not  appear.  It  was  significant  that  no 
reason  was  offered;  from  the  instant  that  they  had 
set  foot  down  at  the  hacienda  it  was  to  be  known  that 
here  Zoraida  did  as  she  pleased  and  accounted  to  none. 


66  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Two  tall  fellows,  looking  pure-bred  Yaqui  Indians, 
served  perfectly,  soft  voiced,  softer  footed,  stony  eyed. 
During  the  meal  Kendric  fell  into  the  way  of  chatting 
with  young  Escobar,  seeking  to  draw  him  out  and 
failing,  while  Barlow  and  Rios  talked  together,  Rios 
regarding  Barlow  intently.  When  they  rose  from 
table  Barlow  accepted  an  invitation  from  Rios  to  look 
over  the  stables,  while  Kendric  was  led  by  Escobar 
back  to  the  patio.  Even  then  Kendric  had  the  sus- 
picion that  the  intention  was  to  separate  him  from 
his  friend,  but  he  saw  nothing  to  be  done.  He  hardly 
looked  for  any  sort  of  violence,  and  were  such  in- 
tended there  was  scant  need  to  waste  time  over  such 
trifles  as  separating  two  men  who  would  have  to  stand 
against  two  score. 

"If  you  will  pardon  me  a  moment,  sefior?"  said 
Escobar  briefly. 

He  left  Kendric  standing  by  the  little  fountain  and 
disappeared.  On  the  instant  one  of  the  little  maids 
stole  softly  forward. 

"This  way,  sefior,"  she  said,  looking  at  him  curi- 
ously. 

"Where?"  he  demanded.    "And  why?" 

She  smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

"It  is  commanded,"  she  replied.  "Will  el  senor 
Americano  be  so  kind  as  to  follow  ?" 

He  had  asked  why  and  got  no  answer.  Now  he 
demanded  of  himself,  "Why  not?"  He  was  playing 
the  other  fellow's  game  and  might  as  well  play  straight 
on  until  he  saw  what  was  what. 

"Lead  on,"  he  said.    "I'm  with  you." 


CHAPTER  VI 

CONCERNING  THAT  WHICH   LAY  IN  THE 
EYES  OF  ZORAIDA 

JIM  KENDRIC  guessed,  before  the  last  door  was 
thrown  open  for  him,  that  he  was  being  led  before 
Zoraida  Castelmar.  The  serving  maid  flitted  on  ahead, 
out  through  a  deep,  shadow-filled  doorway  into  the 
dusk,  down  a  long  corridor  and  into  the  house  again 
at  an  end  which  Kendric  judged  must  be  close  to  the 
flank  of  the  mountain.  Down  a  second  hallway,  to  a 
heavy,  nail-studded  door  which  opened  only  when  the 
little  maid  had  knocked  and  called.  This  room  was 
lighted  by  a  swinging  lamp  and  its  rays  showed  its 
scanty  but  rich  furnishings,  and  the  one  who  had 
opened,  a  tall,  evil-looking  Yaqui  who  wore  in  his  sash 
a  long-barreled  revolver  on  one  side  and  a  longer, 
curved  knife  at  the  other.  The  girl  sidled  about  the 
doorkeeper  and,  safe  behind  his  back  made  a  grimace 
of  distaste  at  him,  then  hurried  on.  Again  she  knocked 
at  a  locked  door;  again  it  was  swung  open  only  when 
she  had  added  her  voice  to  her  rapping.  Who  opened 
this  door  Kendric  did  not  know;  for  it  was  pitch 
dark  as  soon  as  the  door  was  shut  after  them  and  they 
stood  in  a  room  either  windowless  or  darkened  by  thick 
curtains.  But  the  girl  hastened  on  before  him  and  he 
followed  the  patter  of  her  soft  moccasins,  albeit  with  a 
hand  under  his  left  arm  pit;  all  of  this  locking  and 
unlocking  of  doors  and  the  attendant  mystery  struck 
him  as  clap-trap  and  he  set  it  down  as  further  play  for 

67 


68  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

effect  by  the  mistress  of  the  place,  but  none  the  less 
he  was  ready  to  strike  back  if  a  wary  arm  struck  at 
him  through  the  dark. 

The  girl  had  stopped  before  another  door,  Kendric 
close  behind  her.  This  time  she  neither  knocked  nor 
called.  He  heard  her  fingers  growing  along  the  wall; 
then  the  silvery  tinkle  of  a  bell  faintly  heard  through 
the  thick  oak  panels. 

"You  will  wait,"  she  whispered.  And  he  knew 
that  she  was  gone. 

He  was  not  forced  to  wait  long.  Suddenly  the 
door  was  opened;  he  heard  it  move  on  its  hinges  and 
made  out  a  pale  rectangle  of  light.  A  softly  modulated 
voice  said:  "Entra,  senor."  He  stepped  across  the 
threshhold  and  into  the  presence  of  another  serving 
girl,  taller  than  the  other  two  maidens,  finer  bred,  a 
calm-eyed,  serene  girl  of  twenty  dressed  in  a 
plain  white  gown  girdled  with  a  smooth  gold  band. 
They  were  in  a  little  anteroom;  the  curtains  between 
them  and  the  main  apartment  had  made  the  light  dim, 
for  just  beyond  he  could  make  out  the  blurred  glow- 
ing of  many  lamps. 

The  girl's  great  calm  eyes  looked  at  him  frankly  an 
instant,  vague  shadows  drifting  across  them.  Then, 
abruptly,  she  put  her  lips  quite  close  to  his  ear,  and 
whispered :  "Do  not  anger  her,  senor !"  Then,  stepping 
quickly  to  the  curtain,  she  threw  it  back  and  he  entered. 

A  vain,  headstrong  girl,  deemed  Kendric,  given 
the  opportunity  and  very  great  wealth,  might  be  looked 
to  for  absurdities  of  this  kind.  But  was  all  of  this 
nothing  more,  nothing  worse,  than  absurdity?  Sup- 
pose Zoraida  were  sincere  in  all  that  she  had  said  to 
him,  in  all  the  things  she  did?  He  had  heard  a  rumor 


THE  EYES  OF  ZORAIDA  69 

concerning  Ruiz  Rios,  long  ago,  half  forgotten.  Cer- 
tain wild  deeds  laid  to  the  Mexican's  door  had  brought 
forth  the  insinuation  that  he  was  a  little  mad.  Zoraida 
had  claimed  kinship  with  him. 

At  any  rate,  to  Kendric's  matter-of-fact  way  of 
thinking,  here  was  further  clap-trap  that  might  well 
have  been  the  result  of  a  mad  mind  working  extrava- 
gantly. The  room  was  empty.  All  four  walls,  from 
ceiling  to  floor,  were  draped  in  gorgeously  rich  hang- 
ings, oriental  silks,  he  imagined,  deep  purples  and  yel- 
lows and  greens  and  reds  cunningly  arranged  so  that 
their  glowing  colors  and  the  ornamental  designs 
worked  upon  them  made  no  discordant  clash  of  color. 
The  chamber  in  which  he  had  met  Zoraida  at  the  hotel 
was  mild  hued,  colorless  compared  to  this  one.  There 
were  no  chairs  but  a  couch  against  each  wall,  each  a 
bright  spot  with  its  high  heaped  cushions.  In  the 
middle  of  the  room  was  a  small  square  ebony  stand; 
upon  it,  glowing  like  red  fire  upon  its  frail  crystal  stem, 
the  familiar  stone. 

He  had  stepped  a  couple  of  paces  into  the  room, 
his  boots  sinking  without  sound  into  the  deep  carpet. 
In  no  mood  for  a  girl's  whims,  mad  or  sane,  he  waited, 
impatient  and  irritated.  He  regretted  having  come; 
he  should  have  sat  tight  in  the  patio  and  let  her  come 
to  him.  No  doubt  she  was  spying  on  him  now  from 
behind  the  hangings  somewhere.  There  was  no  com- 
fort in  the  thought,  no  joy  in  imagining  that  while  he 
stood  forth  in  the  clear  light  of  the  hanging  lamps  she 
and  her  maidens  and  attendants  might  all  be  watching 
him.  He  vastly  preferred  solid  walls  and  thick  doors 
to  silken  drapes. 

While  he  waited,  two  distinct  impressions  slowly 
forced  themselves  upon  him.  One  was  that  of  a  faint 
perfume,  coming  from  whence  he  had  no  way  of 


70  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

knowing,  the  unforgettable,  almost  sickeningly  sweet 
fragrance  he  remembered.  One  instant  he  was  hardly 
conscious  of  it,  it  was  but  a  suspicion  of  a  fragrance. 
And  then  it  filled  the  room,  strongly  sweet,  strangely 
pleasant,  a  near  opiate  in  its  soothing  effect. 

The  other  impression  was  no  true  sensation  in  that 
it  was  registered  by  none  of  the  five  senses;  a  true 
sensation  only  if  in  truth  there  is  in  man  a  subtle  sixth 
sense,  uncatalogued  but  vital.  It  was  the  old  uncanny 
certainty  that  at  last  eyes,  the  eyes  of  none  other  than 
Zoraida  Castelmar,  were  bent  searchingly  on  him.  So 
strong  was  the  feeling  on  him  that  he  turned  about 
and  fixed  his  own  eyes  on  a  particular  corner  where  the 
silken  folds  hung  graceful  and  loose.  He  felt  that 
she  was  there,  exactly  at  that  spot. 

He  strode  across  the  room  and  laid  a  sudden  hand 
on  the  fabric  It  parted  readily  and  just  behind  it, 
her  eyes  more  brilliant,  more  triumphant  than  he  had 
ever  seen  them,  stood  Zoraida, 

"Can  you  say  now,  Senor  Americano,"  she  cried 
out,  the  music  of  her  voice  rising  and  vibrating,  "that 
I  have  not  set  the  spell  of  my^spirit  upon  your  spirit, 
the  influence  of  my  mind  upon  your  mind  ?  You  stood 
here  and  the  chamber  was  empty  about  you.  I  came, 
but  so  that  you  might  not  hear  with  your  ears  and 
might  not  see  with  your  eyes.  And  yet,  looking  at 
you  through  a  pin  hole  in  a  drawn  curtain,  I  made 
you  conscious  of  me  and  called  voicelessly  to  you  to 
come  and  you  came!" 

There  was  laughter  in  her  oblique  eyes  and  upon 
her  scarlet  lips,  and  Kendric  knew  that  it  was  not 
merely  light  mirth  but  the  deeper  laughter  of  a  con- 
queror, a  high  rejoicing,  the  winged  joy  of  victory. 

"I  am  no  student  of  mental  forces,"  said  Kendric. 
"But  to  my  knowledge  there  is  nothing  unusual  in 


THE  EYES  OF  ZORAIDA  71 

one's  feeling  the  presence  of  another.  As  for  any 
power  which  your  mind  can  exert  over  mine,  I  don't 
admit  it.  It's  absurd." 

Contempt  hardened  the  line  of  her  mouth  and  the 
laughter  died  in  her  eyes. 

"Man  is  an  animal  of  little  wisdom/'  she  murmured 
as  she  passed  by  him  into  the  room,  "because  he  has 
not  learned  to  believe  the  simple  truth." 

"If  there  is  anything  either  simple  or  true  in  your 
establishment,"  he  blurted  out,  "I  haven't  found  it." 

She  went  to  the  table  before  she  turned.  A  flowing 
garment  of  deep  blue  fell  about  her;  on  her  black  hair 
like  a  coronet  was  a  crest  of  many  colored,  tiny  feath- 
ers, feathers  of  humming  birds,  he  learned  later;  throat 
and  arms  were  bare  save  for  many  blazing  red  and 
green  stones,  feet  bare  save  for  exquisitely  wrought 
sandals  which  were  held  in  place  by  little  golden  straps 
which  ended  in  plain  gold  bands  about  the  round  white 
ankles. 

Slowly  she  turned  and  faced  him.  But  not  yet  did 
she  speak.  She  clapped  her  hands  together  and  the 
curtains  at  her  right  bellied  out,  parted  and  a  man 
stepped  before  her,  bending  deeply  in  genuflection.  No 
Yaqui,  this  time;  no  Mexican  as  Kendric  knew  Mex- 
icans. The  man  was  short,  but  a  few  inches  over  five 
feet,  and  remarkably  heavy-muscled,  the  greater  part 
of  the  body  showing  since  his  simple  cotton  tunic  was 
wide  open  across  the  deep  chest,  and  left  arms  and  legs 
bare.  The  forehead  was  atavistically  low,  the  cheek 
bones  very  prominent,  the  nose  wide  and  flat,  the  lips 
loose  and  thick.  The  man  looked  brutish,  cruel  and 
ugly  as  he  stood  face  to  face  with  the  noble  beauty  of 
Zoraida,  And  yet  Kendric,  glancing  swiftly  from  one 
to  the  other,  saw  a  peculiar  resemblance.  It  was  the 
eyes.  This  squat  animal's  eyes  were  like  Zoraida's  in 


72  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

shape  though  they  lacked  the  fire  of  spirit  and  in- 
tellect; long  eyes  that  sloped  outward  and  upward 
toward  the  temples. 

Zoraida  spoke  briefly,  imperiously,  Kendric  did  not 
understand  the  words  though  he  readily  recognized  the 
tongue  for  one  of  the  native  Nahua  dialects.  Old 
Aztec  it  might  have  been,  or  Toltec. 

The  man  saluted,  bowed  and  was  gone.  But  in  a 
moment  he  returned,  another  man  with  him  who  might 
have  been  his  twin  brother,  so  strongly  pronounced  in 
each  were  the  racial  physiognomic  characteristics.  Be- 
tween them  they  bore  a  heavy  chair  of  black  polished 
wood  the  feet  of  which  were  eagles'  talons  gripping 
and  resting  on  crystal  balls.  They  placed  it  and  stood 
waiting  for  orders  or  dismissal.  She  gave  both,  the 
first  in  a  few  low  words  in  the  same  ancient  tongue, 
the  latter  with  a  gesture.  They  bowed  and  disap- 
peared. Zoraida,  one  hand  resting  upon  the  stand 
near  the  jewel  glowing  upon  the  transparent  stem,  sank 
gracefully  into  the  seat 

"All  very  imposing,"  muttered  Kendric.  "But  if 
you  have  anything  to  say  to  me  I  am  waiting." 

From  somewhere  in  the  room  a  parrot  which  he 
had  not  seen  until  now  and  which  had  no  doubt  been 
released  by  one  of  her  low-browed  henchmen  behind 
the  curtains,  flew  by  Kendric' s  head  and  perched  bal- 
ancing upon  an  arm  of  her  chair.  Idly  she  put  out 
her  hand,  stroking  the  bright  feathers.  From  some- 
where else,  startling  the  man  when  he  saw  it  gliding 
by  him  on  its  soft  pads,  a  big  puma,  ran  forward, 
threw  up  its  head,  snarling,  its  tail  jerking  back  and 
forth  restlessly.  Zoraida  spoke  quietly;  the  monster 
cat  crept  close  to  her  chair  and  lay  down  before  her, 
stretched  out  to  five  feet  of  graceful  length.  Zoraida. 
set  one  foot  lightly  upon  the  tawny  back.  The  big 


THE  EYES  OF  ZORAIDA  73 

cat  lay  motionless,  its  eyes  steady  and  unwinking  upon 
Kendric, 

He  felt  himself  strangely  impressed  though  he 
sought  to  argue  with  himself  that  here  was  but  more 
absurdity  from  an  empty-headed  girl  who  had  the 
money  and  the  power  to  unleash  her  extravagant  de- 
sires. But  since  everything'  about  him  was  stamped 
with  the  barbaric,  even  to  the  oblique-eyed  woman 
staring  boldly  at  him;  since  everything  in  the  exotic 
atmosphere  was  in  keeping,  even  to  the  parrot  at  her 
elbow  and  the  heavy,  honey-sweet  perfume  filling  the 
room,  he  was  unable  to  shake  off,  as  he  wished  to, 
the  impression  made  upon  him. 

"In  your  heart,"  said  Zoraida  gravely,  "you  censure 
me  for  empty  by-play,  you  accuse  me  of  vain  trifling. 
You  are  wrong,  Seiior  Americano !  And  soon  you  will 
know  you  are  wrong.  There  is  no  woman  throughout 
the  wide  sweep  of  my  country  or  yours  who  has  the 
work  to  do  that  I  have  to  do ;  the  destiny  to  fulfil ;  or 
the  power  to  wrest  from  the  gods  that  which  she  would 
have.  And  will  have!" 

Steadfast  conviction,  fearlessly  voiced,  rang  through 
her  speech.  What  she  said  she  meant  with  all  of  the 
fiery  ardor  of  her  being.  Her  words  spoke  her 
thought  Whatever  the  fate  which  she  judged  was 
hers  to  fulfil,  she  accepted  it  with  a  fervor  not  unlike 
some  ecstatic  religious  devotion.  Of  all  this  he  was 
confident  l,on  the  instant;  she  might  surround  herself 
with  colorful  accessories  but  her  purpose  was  none  the 
less  serious. 

"Symbols,  if  you  like,"  she  said  carelessly — she  had 
been  staring  at  him  profoundly  and  well  might  have 
glimpsed  something  of  his  train  of  thought — "as  are 
statues  and  pictures  symbols  in  the  Roman  church. 
My  bright  colored  bird  is  older  now  than  you  will  be, 


74  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

or  I,  when  we  die.  Age,  bright  feathers  and  chatter ! 
My  puma  means  much  to  me  that  you  would  not  under- 
stand, being  of  another  race.  Further,  did  you  or 
another  lift  a  hand  against  his  mistress  he  would  tear 
out  your  throat." 

"You  have  had  me  brought  here  for  some  purpose  ?" 
said  Kendric, 

She  sat  forward,  straight  in  her  chair,  her  two  hands 
gripping  the  carved  arms. 

"Did  I  not  tell  you  when  first  we  spoke  together  that 
I  had  use  for  you?  Since  then  have  I  not  sent  myself 
into  your  thoughts  many  times?  Did  I, not  come  to 
you,  that  you  should  remember,  on  the  boat  that 
brought  you  here?" 

"I  am  no  man  for  mysteries,"  he  said.  "Tell  me: 
Did  you  somehow  get  aboard  the  New  Moon  at  San 
Diego?  Or  did  my  fancy  play  me  a  trick?" 

"You  ask  me  questions !"  she  mocked.  "When  you 
would  believe  what  pleased  you,  no  matter  what  word 
I  spoke!  If  I  said  that  across  the  miles,  over  moun- 
tain and  desert  and  water  I  sent  my  spirit  to  you — 
would  you  believe?" 

"No.,  Not  when  there  are  other  readier  explana- 
tions." 

She  raised  a  quick  hand  and  pointed  to  the  parrot. 

"Chatter  f  Questions  put  when  you  do  not  expect 
an  answer.  A  hundred  years  of  words  and  only  a  red 
and  yellow  bundle  of  feathers  at  the  end.  It  is  deeds 
we  want,  Senor  Americano,  you  and  I !" 

He  returned  her  look  steadily. 

"Then  tell  me  what  you  want  of  me,"  he  said. 
"And  in  one  word  I'll  give  you  yes  or  no." 

"That  is  man  talk!"  she  cried  "And  yet,  Senor 
Jim  Kendric,  there  come  times  even  in  a  man's  life 
when  the  yes  or  no  is  spoken  for  him."  She  paused 


THE  EYES  OF  ZORAIDA  75 

for  him  to  drink  in  all  that  her  statement  meant.  Then, 
when  he  remained  silent,  his  eyes  hostile  upon  hers, 
she  went  on,  her  speech  quick  and  passionate.  "There 
are  great  happenings  on  foot,  American.  There  will 
be  war  and  death;  there  will  be  tearing  down  and 
building  up.  And  it  is  I  who  will  direct  and  it  is  you 
who  will  take  my  orders  and  make  them  law.  And 
in  the  end  I  shall  be  a  Zoraida  whom  the  world  shall 
know  and  you  shall  be  a  mighty  man,  the  man  of 
Mexico." 

"Fine  words!"  It  was  his  time  to  mock,  his  time  to 
glance  at  the  ancient  bird. 

"Yes,  Jim  Kendric.  Fine  words  and  more  since 
they  are  great  truths.  Lest  you  think  Zoraida  Castel- 
mar  a  girl  of  mad  fancies,  I  will  speak  freely  with  you. 
Since  all  depends  on  me  and  it  is  in  my  mind  that  much 
will  depend  on  you.  And  why  on  you?  Why  have  I 
put  my  hand  out  upon  you,  a  foreigner  ?  Because  you 
are  such  a  man  as  I  would  make  were  I  God;  a  man 
strong  and  fearless  and  masterful;  a  man  trustworthy 
to  the  death  when  his  word  is  given  and  his  honor  is 
at  stake.  No,  I  do  not  judge  you  alone  by  what  hap- 
pened at  Ortega's  gambling  house.  But  that  fitted  in 
with  all  I  knew  of  you.  Where  else  can  I  find  a  man 
to  lose  ten  thousand,  twenty  thousand  dollars,  all  that 
he  has  and  think  no  more  of  the  matter  than  of  a 
cigaret  paper  that  the  wind  has  blown  from  his  hands  ? 
I  have  heard  of  you,  Jim  Kendric,  and  I  have  said  to 
myself :  'Is  there  such  a  man?  I  know  none  like  him !' 
Then  I  went  for  myself,  saw  for  myself,  judged  for 
myself.  And  now  I  offer  you  what  I  offer  no  other 
man  and  what  no  other  mortal  can  offer  you." 

"You  give  me  a  pretty  clean  bill  of  health,"  he  said 
quietly.  "Now  what  follows  ?" 

This :  There  will  be  war  in  Mexico n 


76  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"No  new  thing/'  he  cut  in.  "There  is  always  war 
in  Mexico." 

"And  I  will  direct  that  war,"  she  went  on  serenely, 
"from  this  chair  in  this  room  and  from  elsewhere. 
Lower  California  will  raise  its  own  standard  and  it 
3,  will  be  my  standard.  Already  has  word  stirred  Sonora 
into  restlessness  and  a  beginning  of  activity;  already 
is  Chihuahua  armed  and  eager.  Already  have  the 
thousands  of  Yaquis  listened  and  agreed ;  already  have 
I  made  them  large  promises  of  ancient  tribal  lands 
restored  and  money.  A  Yaqui  guards  my  door  yonder. 
But  you  did  not  know  that  he  was  the  son  of  Chief 
Pima,  nor  that  in  ten  days  the  son  will  ,be  Chief  after 
having  served  in  the  household  of  Zoraida!  And 
Sonora  and  Chihuahua  and  the  Yaqui  tribes  are 
pledged  to  one  thing:  To  an  independent  Lower  Cali- 
fornia over  which  I  shall  rule." 

"Wild  schemes,"  muttered  Kendric.  "Foredoomed, 
like  other  mad  schemes  in  Mexico.  And  if  your  great 
plannings  are  feasible,  which  I  very  much  doubt,  has 
your  feathered  companion  failed  to  remind  you  that 
talk  with  a  stranger  is  rash  ?" 

"You  are  no  stranger,"  she  said  coolly.  "Nor  have 
I  spoken  a  word  to  you  that  is  not  known  already  to 
all  about  me.  My  cousin,  Ruiz  Rios,  whom  I  distrust 
and  detest;  the  Captain  Escobar  who  is  a  small  man 
and  a  murderer,  the  other  men  whom  I  have  gathered 
about  me,  they  all  know,  for  in  this,  if  in  nothing 
else,  I  can  trust  them  all." 

"But  if  I  went  away,"  he  asked,  "and  talked?" 

"You  are  not  going  away." 

He  lifted  his  brows  quickly  at  that. 

"I  go  where  I  please,"  he  reminded  her.  "When  I 
please,  I  am  my  own  man,  Senorita  Castelmar." 

"Large  words."    She  smiled  at  him  curiously. 


THE  EYES  OF  ZORAIDA  77 

"You  mean  that  my  going  would  be  interfered 
with?" 

"I  mean  that  you  may  make  yourself  free  of  the 
house;  that  you  may  walk  in  the  gardens;  that,  if  you 
sought  to  pass  the  outer  wall,  you  would  be  detained. 
You  remain  my  prisoner,  Sefior  Kendric,  until  you 
become  my  trusted  captain !" 

"You're  a  devilish  hospitable  hostess/'  he  remarked. 

She  was  watching  him  shrewdly,  interested  to  see 
just  how  he  would  accept  her  ultimatum.  He  returned 
her  look  with  clear,  untroubled  eyes. 

"You  will  think  of  what  I  have  told  you,"  she  said 
slowly.  "My  wealth  is  very  great;  the  fertile  lands 
which  I  have  inherited  and  those  which  I  have  pur- 
chased, embrace  hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres;  the 
barren  lands  which  are  mine,  desert  and  mountain, 
stretch  mile  after  mile.  There  is  no  power  like  mine 
in  all  Mexico,  though  until  now  it  has  lain  hidden, 
giving  no  sign.  It  is  in  my  heart  to  make  you  a  rich 
man  and,  what  you  like  more,  Jim  Kendric,  a  man  to 
play  the  biggest  of  all  games  and  for  the  biggest  of 
all  stakes.  And  further — further M 

"Further?"  He  laughed  "What  comes  after  all 
that,  Queen  Zoraida?" 

"Look  into  my  eyes/'  she  said  softly.    "Look  deep/' 

He  looked  and  though  to  him  were  women  unread 
books,  at  last  a  slow  flush  crept  up  into  his  cheeks.  For 
now  neither  he  nor  any  other  man  could  have  failed 
to  understand  the  silent  speech  of  Zoraida' s  eyes.  It 
was  as  though  she  invited  him  not  so  much  to  look 
into  her  eyes  as  through  them  and  on,  deep  into  her 
heart ;  as  though  these  were  gates,  open  to  him,  through 
which  he  might  glimpse  paradise.  Zoraida,  her  look 
clinging  to  his  passionately,  was  seeking  to  offer  the 
final  argument  The  case  would  have  not  been  plainer 


78  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

had  she  whispered  with  her  lips :  "I,  even  I,  Zoraida, 
love  you!  You  shall  be  my  master;  I  your  willing 
slave.  What  you  will,  I  will  also.  My  beauty  shall 
be  yours;  my  wealth,  my  estate,  my  ambitions,  my 
power,  all  those  shall  be  my  lord's.  Of  a  kingdom 
which  shall  be  built  you  shall  be  king.  You  shall  go 
far,  you  shall  climb  high.  All  because  I,  Zoraida,  love 
you!" 

She  stood  there  watching  him,  her  eyes  burning  into 

/  •  his.  In  her  own  mind  were  pictures  made,  pictures  of 
pride  and  power  and,  as  a  mirror  reflects  the  scene  be- 
fore it,  so  for  a  little  did  Jim  Kendric's  mind  hold  an 
image  of  the  thing  in  Zoraida's.  He  felt  her  influence 
upon  him;  he  felt  that  odd  stirring  of  the  blood;  he 
stared  back  into  her  eyes  like  a  man  bewildered  as 
pictures  rose  and  swept  magnificently  by.  He  saw 
the  red  of  her  parted  lips  and  heard  her  soft  breath- 
ing; for  a  certain  length  of  time — long  or  short  he  had 
little  conception — he  was  motionless  and  speechless 
under  her  spell. 

He  stirred  restlessly.  Those  visions  conjured  up 
within  him,  either  by  Zoraida's  previous  words  and 
what  had  gone  before  or  by  the  subtle  workings  of  her 
mind  now,  were  not  unbroken.  He  thought  of  Twisty 
Barlow.  Barlow  had  gone  to  her  at  the  border  town 
hotel;  from  his  own  experiences  with  her  Kendric 
thought  that  he  could  imagine  how  she  stood  before 
the  sailor,  how  she  talked  with  him  and  looked  at  him, 
how  in  the  first  small  point  she  won  over  him.  He 

.  thought  of  an  ancient  tale  of  Circe  and  the  swine. 
Was  he  a  free  man,  a  man's  man  or  was  he  a  woman's 
plaything?  ...  It  flashed  over  him  again  that  it 
might  be  that  Zoraida  was  mad.  Even  now,  that  he 
seemed  to  be  reading  her  inmost  soul,  was  she  but 
playing  the  siren  to  his  imaginings?  Was  this  some 


THE  EYES  OF  ZORAIDA  79 

barbaric  whim  of  hers  or  was  she,  for  the  once,  sin- 
cere ?  While  appearing  to  be  all  yielding  softness,  was 
she  but  playing  a  game?  Would  she,  at  one  instant 
swaying  toward  a  man's  arms,  the  next  whip  back 
from  him,  laughing  at  him? 

Confused  thoughts  winging  through  his  chaos  of 
uncertainty  held  him  where  he  was,  his  eyes  staring 
at  hers.  Zoraida  might  read  some  of  his  mind  but 
surely  not  all.  What  she  realized  was  that  she  had 
offered  much,  everything,  and  that  he  stood,  seemingly 
unmoved  and  frowned  at  her.  Quick  in  all  her 
emotions,  now  suddenly  her  cheeks  flamed  and  the 
light  in  her  eyes  altered  swiftly  to  blazing  anger. 

"Go!"  she  cried,  pointing.  She  leaped  to  her  feet, 
her  eyes  flaming.  "By  the  long  vanished  Huitzil,  I 
swear  that  I  am  of  a  mind  to  let  those  dogs,  Rios 
and  Escobar,  have  their  way  with  you!  What!  am  I 
Zoraida  Castelmar,  of  a  race  of  kings,  daughter  of 
the  Montezumas,  to  have  a  man  stand  up  before  me 
weighing  me  in  the  balance  of  his  two  eyes?  Go!" 

He  turned  to  go,  eager  to  be  out  in  the  open  air. 
But  as  he  moved  she  called  out  to  him : 

"Wait !  At  least  I  will  say  my  say.  You  and  that 
fool  Barlow  came  here,  into  my  land,  seeking  gold. 
Escobar  comes  slinking  in  like  a  desert  wolf  on  the 
same  errand.  Oh,  I  know  something  of  it  as  I  know 
something  of  all  that  goes  forward  from  end  to  end 
of  a  land  that  will  one  day  all  be  mine.  Juarez  died 
from  Escobar's  knife  but  his  last  gasp  was  for  one 
of  my  agent's  ears.'  When  you  or  Barlow  or  Escobar 
lay  hand  on  the  treasure  of  the  Montezumas,  it  will 
be  to  step  aside  for  the  last  Montezuma.  It  will  be 
mine!" 

Fury  filled  her  eyes.  The  hands  at  her  sides  clenched 
until  the  knuckles  shone  white  through  the  blaze  of 


8o  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

her  rings.  The  great  cat  rose  and  yawned,  showing 
its  glistening  teeth  and  red  throat  Its  eyes  were  no 
more  merciless  and  cruel  than  its  mistress's.  Kendric 
felt  queerry  as  though  he  were  looking  back  across 
dead  centuries  into  ancient  Mexico  and  upon  the  angry 
princess  of  the  most  cruel  of  all  peoples,  the  blood- 
lusting  Aztecs. 

"Go!"  she  panted. 

With  one  after  another  of  the  doors  thrown  open 
before  him  Kendric  hurried  away. 


CHAPTER  VII 

OF  A  GIRL  HELD  FOR  RANSOM  AND  OF  A  TOAST  DRUNK 
BY   ONE  INFATUATED 

JIM  KENDRIC  returned  straightway  to  the  rooms  al- 
lotted to  him  and  Barlow,  hoping  to  find  his  companion 
there.  They  must  talk  together,  they  must  understand 
each  the  other;  they  must  know,  and  know  without 
delay,  just  in  what  and  to  what  lengths  friend  could 
count  on  friend.  To  the  uttermost,  Kendric  would 
have  said  a  week  ago.  Now  he  only  pondered  the  mat- 
ter, recalling  that  in  some  ways  Barlow  did  not  seem 
quite  the  old  mate. 

He  found  the  rooms  empty  and  threw  himself  into 
one  of  the  big  chairs  to  wait.  As  he  regarded  the 
situation  it  had  little  enough  to  recommend  itself  to  a 
man  of  his  stamp.  He  had  not  the  least  desire  to 
meddle  in  any  way  with  Mexican  revolutionary  poli- 
tics; upheavals  would  come  and  come  again,  no  doubt, 
for  thus  would  a  great  country  in  due  time  work  out 
its  own  salvation.  But  it  was  no  affair  of  his.  This 
fomenting  nucleus  into  which  he  and  Barlow  had  come 
was,  he  estimated,  foredoomed  to  failure  and  worse; 
one  fine  day  Ruiz  Rios  and  Fernando  Escobar  and 
their  outlaw  followings  would  find  themselves  with 
their  backs  to  an  adobe  wall  and  their  faces  set  toward 
a  line  of  rifles.  And  Zoraida  Castelmar  had  best  think 
upon  that,  too.  For  turbulent  times  had  borne  women 
along  with  men  to  a  quick  undoing. 

All  this  was  clear  to  him.  But  here  clarity  gave 

81 


82  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

way  to  groping  uncertainty.  Less  than  anything1  else 
did  he  have  a  stomach  for  being  bottled  up  in  any 
house  in  the  world,  Zoraida's  house  least  of  all,  and 
denied  the  freedom  of  the  open.  It  looked  as  though 
he,  who  had  never  done  another  man's  command, 
must  now  do  a  girl's.  At  call  she  had  fifty,  perhaps 
a  hundred  retainers,  ugly-looking  devils  all  and  no 
lovers  of  Americans  who  came  unbidden  into  their 
country. 

"There's  always  a  way  out  of  a  mess  like  this,"  he 
told  himself,  determined  to  find  it.  "But  right  now 
I  don't  see  it." 

There  was  also  the  lodestone  toward  which  he  and 
Barlow  had  steered  and  which  had  drawn  Fernando 
Escobar.  And  that  amazing  creature  who  coolly  laid 
claim  to  the  royal  blood  of  the  Montezumas,  laid  claim 
as  well  to  their  treasure  trove.  Just  how  any  of  them 
could  make  a  move  toward  it  without  her  knowledge 
baffled  him.  And  hence,  more  than  ever  before,  did 
his  desire  mount  to  get  his  own  hands  on  it. 

When  presently  Barlow  entered,  Kendric  looked  up 
at  him  thoughtfully.  Barlow  bore  along  with  him  a 
subdued  air  of  excitement. 

"You've  just  left  Rios?"  asked  Kendric. 

"Yes."  Barlow  came  in  and  closed  the  door,  look- 
ing quickly  and  questioningly  at  his  friend.  He  ap- 
peared to  hesitate,  then  said  hurriedly :  "There  are  big 
things  ahead,  old  Headlong!  Big!" 

"Shoot,"  answered  Kendric  sharply.  "What's  the 
play,  man?" 

Again  Barlow  hesitated,  plainly  in  doubt  just  how 
far  Kendric  might  be  in  sympathy  with  him. 

"It  wouldn't  make  you  mad  to  fill  your  pockets, 
Headlong,  would  it?"  he  asked.  "Bulgin'  full?  And 


HELD  FOR  RANSOM  83 

you  wouldn't  mind  a  scrap  or  two  and  a  blow  or  two 
in  the  job,  would  you?" 

"Watch  your  step,  Twisty,  old  timer/'  said  Kendric. 
"Rios  has  been  talking  revolution  to  you,  has  he? 
Sometimes  an  uprising  down  here  is  a  nasty  mess  that 
it's  easier  to  get  into  than  out  of  again.  And,  if  we 
get  our  hooks  on  the  loot  that  brought  us  down  here, 
why  should  we  want  to  mix  it  with  the  federal  gov- 
ernment?" 

Barlow  began  tugging  at  his  forelock. 

"I'm  up  a  tree,  Jim/'  he  muttered  at  last  "Clean 
up  a  tree." 

"Then  look  out  you  light  on  your  feet  instead  of 
on  your  head  when  you  decide  to  come  down.  It 
would  be  easy  to  make  a  mistake  right  now." 

"Yes,  easy;  dead  easy. — Old  Headlong  counseling 
caution !"  Barlow  laughed  but  with  little  genuine  mirth. 

"I  want  a  straight  talk  with  you,  Twisty,"  said 
Kendric  soberly.  "I  for  one  don't  like  the  lay-out 
here  and  I'm  going  to  break  for  the  open.  You  and 
I  have  fallen  among  a  pack  of  damned  thieves,  to  draw 
it  mild.  It  strikes  me  we'd  better  understand  each 
other." 

"Right !"  cried  Barlow  eagerly.  "Let's  talk  straight 
from  the  shoulder." 

But  events,  or  rather  Zoraida  Castelmar  who  sought 
to  usurp  destiny's  prerogatives  here,  ruled  otherwise. 
There  came  a  quiet  rap  at  the  door,  then  the  voice  of 
one  of  the  housemaids,  saying : 

"La  Senorita  Zoraida  desires  immediately  to  speak 
with  Senor  Barlow." 

Barlow,  just  easing  himself  into  a  chair,  jumped  up. 

"Coming,"  he  called. 

Kendric,  too,  sprang  up,  his  hand  locking  hard  upon 
Barlow's  arm. 


84  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Twisty,"  he  said,  "hold  on  a  minute.  The  house 
isn't  on  fire." 

"Well?"  Barlow's  impatience  glared  out  of  his  eyes. 
"What  is  it?" 

"I've  got  a  very  large,  life-sized  suspicion  that  it 
would  be  just  as  well  if  you  sent  back  word  you  couldn't 
come.  At  least,  not  until  we've  had  our  talk." 

"She  said  immediately,"  said  Barlow.  And  then, 
"You  don't  want  me  to  see  her?  Why?" 

"Because,  if  you  want  to  know,  she  isn't  good  for 
you.  She'll  seek  to  draw  you  in  on  this  fool  scheme 
of  hers,  and  if  you  don't  look  out  you'll  do  just  what 
she  says  do.  There  never  was  a  mere  woman  like  her. 
She's  uncanny,  man!  She  will  give  you  the  same  line 
of  mad  talk  she  gave  me,  she  will  make  you  the  same 
sorts  of  offers " 

"You've  seen  her  then?  Tonight?  While  I  was 
out  with  Rios  you  were  with  her?" 

"Yes.  And  not  because  I  found  any  pleasure  in  her 
company,  either." 

Barlow  jerked  free,  laughing  his  disbelief,  his  look 
at  once  unpleasant  and  suspicious, 

"Tell  that  to  the  marines,"  he  jeered.  He  threw 
the  door  open  and  went  out  In  the  hall  Sendric  could 
hear  his  steps  sounding  quick  and  eager.  Kendric  re- 
turned to  his  chair,  perplexed.  Then  again  he  sprang 
up,  throwing  out  his  hands,  shaking  his  shoulders  as 
though  to  rid  them  of  a  troublesome  weight. 

"Too  much  thinking  isn't  good  for  a  man,"  he  told 
himself  lightly.  "The  game's  made;  let  her  roll!" 

He  took  a  cigar  from  the  table,  lighted  it  and  passed 
through  the  bath  and  adjoining  room.  A  door  opened 
to  the  outer  corridor.  He  stepped  out  upon  the  flag- 
stones and  strolled  down  the  aisle  flanked  on  one  side 
by  the  adobe  wall  of  the  house,  on  the  other  by  the 


HELD  FOR  RANSOM  85 

white  columns  and  arches.  The  night  was  fine,  clear 
and  starlit^  the  fragrance  of  a  thousand  flowers  lay 
heavy  upon  the  air;  the  babble  of  the  outdoor  fountain 
made  merry  music.  He  left  the  stone  floor  for  the 
graveled  driveway  and  put  his  head  back  to  send  a 
little  puff  of  smoke  upward  toward  the  flash  of  stars. 

"It's  a  good  old  land,  at  that/'  he  mused.  "Big  and 
clean  and  wide  open." 

He  strolled  on,  looking  to  right  and  left.  Before 
him  the  gardens  appeared  deserted.  But  there  were 
patches  of  inpenetrable  blackness  under  the  wider  flung 
trees,  and  it  seemed  likely,  from  what  Zoraida  had 
said,  that  some  of  her  rabble  were  watching  him.  If 
so,  he  deemed  it  as  well  to  know  for  certain.  So  he 
kept  straight  on  toward  the  whitewashed  wall  glimpsed 
through  the  foliage.  He  came  to  it  and  stopped;  it 
was  little  higher  than  his  head  and  would  be  no  obstacle 
in  itself.  He  shot  out  his  hands,  gripped  the  top  and 
went  up. 

And  still  no  one  to  dispute  his  right  to  do  as  he 
pleased.  He  sat  for  a  moment  atop  the  wall,  looking 
about  him  curiously.  He  marked  that  at  each  of  the 
corners  of  the  enclosure  to  be  seen  from  where  he  sat, 
was  a  little  square  tower  rising  a  dozen  feet  higher 
than  the  wall.  In  each  tower  a  lamp  burned.  From 
the  nearest  one  came  the  voices  of  two  men.  Tied 
near  this  tower  and  outside  the  wall  were  two  horses ; 
he  saw  them  vaguely  and  heard  the  clink  of  bridle 
chains.  Saddled  horses.  There  would  be  saddled 
horses  at  each  of  the  four  towers;  night  and  day,  if 
Zoraida' s  talk  were  not  mere  boasting.  The  tempta- 
tion to  know  just  how  strict  was  the  guard  kept  moved 
him  to  drop  to  the  ground,  on  the  outside  of  the  wall. 
He  moved  quickly,  but  his  feet  had  not  struck  the  grass 
when  a  sharp  whistle  cut  through  the  still  night  The 


86  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

whistle  came  from  somewhere  in  the  shadows  within 
the  enclosure. 

Kendric  stood  stone  still.  But  had  he  been  ready 
for  flight  he  knew  now  that  he  could  not  have  gone 
twenty  paces  before  they  stopped  him.  Where  he  had 
heard  the  voices  of  two  men  he  now  heard  an  over- 
turned chair,  jingle  of  spur  and  thud  of  boots,  a  sharp 
command.  He  saw  two  figures  run  out  on  the  wall 
and  leap  down  into  the  saddles  just  below.  And  he 
knew  that  in  the  other  towers  there  had  been  like  readi- 
ness and  like  action.  For  already  he  saw  four  mounted 
men  and  needed  no  telling  that  each  man  carried  a 
rifle. 

He  climbed  back  on  the  wall,  his  curiosity  for  the 
moment  satisfied.  And  there  he  sat  until  one  of  the 
riders  galloped  to  him.  The  man  came  close  and  said 
gruffly: 

"It  is  not  permitted  to  cross  the  wall.  It  would  be 
best  if  Senor  Americano  remembered.  And  went  back 
to  the  house." 

"Right-o !"  agreed  Kendric  cheerily.  "I  just  wanted 
to  be  sure,  compadre"  and  he  turned  and  dropped 
back  into  the  garden.  "She  holds  the  cards,  ace,  face 
and  trump!"  he  conceded  sweepingly.  "But  the  game's 
to  play."  And,  as  again  he  strolled  along  the  driveway, 
his  thoMghts  were  not  unpleasant.  For  what  had  he 
come  adventuring  into  Lower  California  if  he  weren't 
ready  for  what  the  day  might  bring?  The  situation 
had  its  zest.  He  wondered  how  many  men  were 
hidden  about  the  garden,  like  the  fellow  who  had 
watched  him  and  whistled?  How  many  were  watch- 
ing him  now  ?  He  reflected  as  he  walked  on,  but  his 
conjectures  were  not  so  deep  as  to  make  him  oblivious 
of  his  cigar.  On  the  whole,  for  the  night,  he  was  content 


HELD  FOR  RANSOM  87 

Just  as  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  house  a  rider , 
coming  from  the  double  front  gate,  raced  down  the 
driveway  and  flung  himself  to  the  ground.  A  figure 
stepped  out  from  the  shadowy  corridor  and  Kendric 
was  near  enough  to  recognize  the  second  figure  as  that 
of  Captain  Escobar,  even  before  he  heard  his  sharp : 

"Is  that  you,  Ramorez?    What  luck?" 

"Si,  Senor  Capitan.  It  is  Ramorez,  And  the  luck 
is  fine!" 

"You  have  her?"  Escobar's  tone  was  exultant. 

"Just  outside.  Sancho  is  bringing  her.  I  am  here 
for  orders.  Where  shall  we  take  her?" 

"Here.  Into  the  house.  Senorita  Castelmar  knows 
everything  and  is  with  us/' 

Ramorez  swung  back  up  into  the  saddle  and  spurred 
away,  gone  into  the  darkness  under  the  trees  toward 
the  gate,  Kendric  stood  where  he  was,  receptive  for 
any  bit  of  understanding  which  might  be  vouchsafed 
him.  He  was  satisfied  with  his  position  in  the 
shadows;  glad  when  Escobar  stepped  out  so  that  the 
lamp  light  from  within  streamed  across  his  face. 
Actually  the  man's  hard  eyes  gloated. 

It  was  only  a  moment  until  Ramorez  returned,  an- 
other man  riding  knee  and  knee  with  him,  a  led  horse 
following  them.  It  was  this  animal  and  its  rider  that 
held  Kendric's  eyes.  In  the  saddle  was  what  appeared 
a  weary  little  figure,  drooping  forward,  clutching 
miserably  at  the  horn  of  the  saddle  with  both  hands. 
As  she  came  nearer  and  there  was  more  light  he  saw 
the  bowed  head,  made  out  that  it  was  hatless,  even 
saw  how  the  hair  was  all  tumbled  and  ready  to  fall 
about  her  shoulders. 

"You  will  get  down,  sefiorita."  It  was  Escobar's 
voice,  gloating  like  his  eyes. 

The  listless  figure  in  the  saddle  made  no  reply, 


88  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

seemed  bereft  of  any  volition  of  its  own.  As  Ramorez 
put  up  his  hands  to  help  her,  she  came  down  stiffly 
and  stood  stiffly,  looking  about  her.  Kendric,  to  see 
better,  came  on  emerging  from  the  shadows  and  stood, 
leaning  against  the  wall,  drawing  slowly  at  his  cigar 
and  awaiting  the  end  of  the  scene.  So  now,  for  the 
first  time,  he  saw  the  girl's  face  as  she  lifted  it  to  look 
despairingly  around. 

"Oh,"  she  cried  suddenly,  a  catch  in  her  voice, 
throwing  out  her  two  arms  toward  Escobar.  "Please, 
please  let  me  go!" 

The  hair  was  falling  about  her  face;  she  shook  it 
back,  still  standing  with  her  arms  outflung  imploringly. 
Kendric  frowned.  The  girl  was  too  fair  for  a  Mex- 
ican; her  hair  in  the  lamp  light  was  less  dark  than 
black  and  might  well  be  brown;  her  speech  was  the 
speech  of  one  of  his  own  country. 

"An  American  girl!"  he  marveled.  "These  dirty 
devils  have  laid  their  hands  on  an  American  girl !  And 
just  a  kid,  at  that." 

With  her  hair  down,  with  a  trembling  "Please" 
upon  her  lips,  she  did  not  look  sixteen. 

"I  am  so  tired,"  she  begged;  "I  am  so  frightened. 
Won't  you  let  me  go  ?  Please  ?" 

Kendric  fully  expected  her  to  break  into  tears,  so 
heartbroken  was  her  attitude,  so  halting  were  her  few 
supplicating  words.  A  spurt  of  anger  flared  up  in 
his  heart;  to  be  harsh  with  her  was  like  hurting  a 
child.  And  yet  he  held  resolutely  back  from  inter- 
ference. As  yet  no  rude  hand  was  being  laid  on  her 
and  it  would  be  better  if  she  went  into  the  house 
quietly  than  if  he  should  raise  a  flurry  of  wild  hope 
in  her  frightened  breast  and  evoke  an  .outpouring  of 
terrified  pleadings,  all  to  no  avail.  What  he  would 
have  to  say  were  best  said  to  Escobar  alone. 


HELD  FOR  RANSOM  89 

Slowly  her  arms  dropped  to  her  sides.  Her  look 
went  from  face  to  face,  resting  longest  on  Jim  Ken- 
dric's.  He  kept  his  lips  tight  about  his  cigar,  shutting 
back  any  word  to  raise  false  hope  just  yet.  The  re- 
sult was  that  the  girl  turned  from  him  with  a  little 
shudder,  seeing  in  him  but  another  oppressor.  She 
sighed  wearily  and,  walking  stiffly,  passed  to  the  door 
flung  open  by  Ramorez  and  into  the  house.  Escobar 
was  following  her  when  Kendric  called  to  him.  The 
bandit  captain  muttered  but  came  back  into  the  yard. 

"Well,  senor?"  he  demanded  impudently.  "What 
have  you  to  say  to  me?" 

"Who  is  that  girl?"  asked  Kendric.  "And  what  are 
you  doing  with  her?'* 

Escobar  laughed  his  open  insolence. 

"So  you  are  interested?  Pretty,  like  a  flower,  not 
Well,  she  is  not  for  you,  Senor  Americano,  though  she 
is  of  your  own  country.  She  is  the  daughter  of  a  rich 
gentleman  named  Gordon,  if  you  would  know.  Her 
papa  calls  her  Betty  and  is  very  fond  of  her.  Him  I 
have  let  go  back  to  the  United  States.  That  he  may 
send  me  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  for  Senorita. 
Betty.  Are  there  other  questions,  senor?" 

"You've  got  a  cursed  high  hand,  Captain  Escobar," 
muttered  Kendric.  "But  let  me  tell  you  something:. 
If  you  touch  a  hair  of  that  poor  little  kid's  head  I'll 
shoot  six  holes  square  through  your  dirty  heart."  And 
he  passed  by  Escobar  and  went  into  the  house. 

He  meant  to  tell  the  daughter  of  Gordon  that  he, 
too,  was  an  American;  that  Barlow,  another  Ameri- 
can, was  on  the  job;  that,  somehow,  they  would  see 
her  through.  But  he  was  given  only  a  fleeting  glimpse 
of  her  as  she  passed  out  through  a  door  across  the 
room,  escorted  by  the  grave-eyed  young  woman  who 
an  hour  ago  had  warned  him  not  to  anger  Zoraida. 


90  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

He  saw  Betty  Gordon's  face  distinctly  now;  she  was 
fair,  her  hair  was  brown,  he  thought  her  eyes  were 
gray.  But  before  he  could  call  to  her  she  was  gone, 
clinging  to  the  arm  of  Zoraida' s  maid. 

"Poor  little  kid,"  muttered  Kendric,  staring  after 
her.  'I'd  give  my  hat  to  have  her  on  a  horse,  scooting 
for  the  New  Moon.  All  alone  among  these  pirates, 
with  her  dad  the  Lord  knows  where  trying  to  dig  up 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  for  her  t" 

At  least  she  was  no  doubt  well  enough  off  for  the 
night.  She  looked  too  tired  to  lie  awake  long,  no  mat- 
ter what  her  distress.  He  returned  to  his  rooms  and 
sat  down  to  wait  again  for  Barlow. 

When  at  last  Barlow  came  Kendric  knew  on  the  in- 
stant what  success  Zoraida  had  had  with  him.  Twisty 's 
eyes  were  shining ;  his  head  was  up ;  he  walked  briskly 
like  a  man  with  his  plans  made  and  his  heart  in  them. 

"You  poor  boob/'  muttered  Kendric  digustedly. 
"Once  you  let  a  woman  get  her  knife  in  your  heart 
you're  done  for." 

Barlow  swept  up  the  brandy  bottle  and  filled  a  glass 
brim  full. 

"To  Zoraida,  Queen  of  Lower  Calif ornia!"  he  cried 
ringingly.  He  drank  and  smashed  the  glass  upon  the 
floor. 

Kendric  sighed  and  shook  his  head  hopelessly.  And 
thanked  God  that  he  had  never  been  the  man  to  go 
mad  over  a  pretty  face. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

HOW  A  MAN  MAY  CARRY  A  MESSAGE  AND  NOT  KNOW 
HIMSELF  TO  BE  A  MESSENGER 

"THERE'S  no  call  for  bad  blood  between  you  and  me, 
Jim/'  said  Barlow,  plainly  ill  at  his  ease.  "We've  al- 
ways been  friends;  let's  stay  friends.  If  we  can't  pull 
together  in  the  deal  that's  comin',  why,  let's  just  split 
our  trail  two  ways  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

"Fair  enough,"  cried  Kendric  heartily.  His  com- 
panion thrust  out  a  hand;  Kendric  took  it  warmly. 
Barlow  looked  relieved 

"And,"  continued  the  sailor,  "there's  no  sense  for- 
gettin'  what  we  ran  into  this  port  for  in  the  first  place. 
There's  the  loot ;  no  matter  how  or  when  we  come  at  it, 
both  together  or  single,  we  split  it  even  ?" 

"Fair  again.    The  old-time  Barlow  talking." 

"All  I've  held  out  on  you,  Jim,  is  the  exact  location, 
so  far  as  I  know  it  I'll  spill  that  to  you  now,  best  I 
can.  Then  you  can  play  out  your  string  your  way  and 
I  can  play  it  out  my  way.  As  Juarez  tipped  me  off, 
you've  got  three  peaks  to  sail  by ;  whether  it's  the  three 
we  saw  first  or  the  ones  right  off  here,  back  of  the 
house,  I  don't  know  any  more  than  you  do.  But  it 
ought  to  be  easy  tellin'  when  a  man's  on  the  spot.  The 
middle  peak  ought  to  be  a  good  fifty  feet  higher  than 
the  others  and  flat  lookin'  on  top.  In  a  ravine,  be- 
tween the  tall  boy  and  the  one  at  the  left,  Juarez  said 
there  was  a  lot  of  scrub  trees  and  brusk,  He  said 

91 


92  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

plow  through  the  brush,  keepin'  to  the  up  edge  when 
you  can  get  to  it,  until  you  come  to  about  the  middle 
of  the  patch.  There  a  man  would  find  a  lot  of  loose 
rock,  boulders  that  looked  like  they'd  slid  off  the  moun- 
tain. This  rock,  and  the  Lord  knows  how  much  of  it 
there  is,  covers  the  hole  that  the  old  priest's  writin' 
said  that  loot  was  in.  And  that's  the  yarn,  every 
damn'  word  of  it." 

"If  it's  the  place  back  of  the  house,"  said  Kendric, 
"it'll  be  a  night  job,  all  of  it.  It's  not  a  half  mile  off 
and  plain  sight  from  here.  Now,  what's  the  likelihood 
of  Escobar  having  been  there  ahead  of  us?" 

"Escobar's  out  of  the  runnin'."  Barlow's  eyes 
glinted  with  his  satisfaction.  "He's  corked  up  here 
tighter'n  a  fly  in  a  bottle.  He  isn't  allowed  to  stick 
nose  outside  the  walls  after  dark;  and  he  isn't  allowed 
to  ride  out  of  sight  in  the  daytime.  Those  are  little 
Escobar's  orders.  And,  by  cracky,  I'll  bet  he  minds 


'em." 


"Who  told  you  all  that?" 

"She  did." 

"What's  she  close-herding  him  for?" 

"Doesn't  trust  him;  can  you  blame  her?  She's 
takin'  her  chances,  and  she  knows  it,  plannin'  the  big 
things  ahead.  And  she's  not  missin'  a  bet." 

"And  more,"  remarked  Kendric  drily,  "she  hankers 
for  the  loot  herself?" 

"She  wouldn't  know  a  thing  about  it,"  protested 
Barlow.  "Escobar  would  keep  his  mouth  shut;  he's 
wise  hog  enough  for  that." 

"But  she  does  know,  Twisty.  She  knows  that  Esco- 
bar knifed  Juarez;  she  knows  why;  she  knows  pretty 
nearly  as  much  about  the  thing  as  we  know/' 

"She  knows  a  lot  of  things,"  mused  Barlow.  But 
he  shook  his  head:  "She's  shootin'  high,  Headlong;  no 


A  MAN  AND  A  MESSAGE  93 

penny-ante  game  for  her!  Not  that  what  we're  lookin' 
for  sounds  little ;  but  it  ain't  in  her  path  and  she's  not 
turnin'  aside  for  anything.  And  she's  the  richest  lady 
in  Mexico  right  now.  Those  pearls  of  hers,  man,  are 
worth  over  a  hundred  thousand  dollars,  or  I'm  a  fool. 
I  saw  them  again  tonight ;  she  let  me  have  them  in  my 
hands.  And  that  ruby;  did  you  see  it?  Why,  kings 
can't  sport  stones  like  that  in  their  best  Sunday 


crowns." 


"She  contends  that  she  is  a  descendent  of  the  old 
Mexican  kings,"  offered  Kendric  coolly.  "And  any 
treasure,  left  by  the  Montezumas,  she  claims  by  right 
of  inheritance!" 

"She  couldn't  get  across  with  a  claim  like  that,  could 
she?  Not  in  any  law  court,  Jim?" 

"Not  unless  the  jurors  were  all  men  and  she  could 
get  them  off  alone,  one  at  a  time,  and  whisper  in  their 
ears,"  grunted  Kendric. 

Barlow  laughed  and  they  dropped  the  subject. 
Kendric  told  Barlow  what  he  had  learned  during  the 
evening;  how  the  walls  were  sentinelled  and  how  at 
the  present  moment  under  the  same  roof  with  them  was 
an  American  girl,  held  for  ransom. 

"And,  according  to  Escobar,"  he  concluded,  watch- 
ing his  old  friend's  face,  "the  trick  is  put  over  with  the 
connivance  of  Miss  Castelmar.  This  would  seem  to 
be  one  of  the  headquarters  of  the  great  national 
game !" 

"Well?"  snapped  the  sailor.  "What  of  it?  If  you 
can  get  away  with  a  game  like  that  it  pays  big  and 
fast.  And  who  the  devil  sent  you  and  me  down  this 
way  to  preach  righteousness?  It's  their  business — 
but,  cut-throat  cur  that  that  little  bandit  hop  o'  my 
thumb  is,  I  don't  believe  a  word  he  says." 

"And  if  you  did  believe,  it  would  be  just  the  same?" 


94  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

There  was  a  queer  note  in  his  voice.  "Well,  Twisty, 
old  mate,  I  guess  you've  said  it.  Our  trail  forks.  Good 
night." 

"Good  night,"  growled  Barlow.  Each  went  into  his 
own  bedroom;  the  doors  closed  after  them. 

For  a  couple  of  hours  Kendric  sat  in  the  dark  by 
his  window,  staring  out  into  the  gardens,  pondering. 
Of  two  things  he  was  certain:  He  was  not  going  to 
remain  shut  up  in  the  Hacienda  Montezuma  if  there 
was  a  way  to  break  for  the  open;  and  he  was  not 
going  to  leave  Lower  California  without  his  share  of 
the  buried  treasure  or  at  least  without  knowing  that 
the  tale  was  a  lie.  And,  little  by  little,  a  third  con- 
sideration forced  itself  in  with  its  place  with  these 
matters;  he  could  not  get  out  of  his  mind  the  picture 
of  the  "poor  little  kid  of  a  girl"  in  Escobar's  hands. 
Like  any  other  strong  man,  Kendric  had  a  quick  sym- 
pathy and  pity  for  the  weak  and  abused.  Never,  he 
thought,  had  he  seen  an  individual  less  equipped  to 
contend  with  such  forces  than  was  the  little  American 
girl. 

"What  I'd  like,"  he  thought  longingly,  "would  be  to 
make  a  break  for  the  border ;  to  round  up  about  twenty 
of  the  boys  and  to  swoop  down  on  this  place  like  a 
gale  out  of  hell!  Clean  'em  for  fair,  pick  the  little 
Gordon  girl  up  and  race  back  to  the  border  with  her. 
If  it  wasn't  so  blamed  far " 

But  he  realized,  even  while  he  let  his  angry  fancies 
run,  that  he  was  dreaming  impossibilities.  He  knew, 
also,  that  to  take  up  the  matter  through  the  regular 
diplomatic  channels  would  be  a  process  too  infinitely 
slow  to  suit  the  situation.  It  was  either  a  single- 
handed  job  for  Jim  Kendric,  or  else  it  was  up  to  the 
girl's  father  to  pay  down  the  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars. 


A  MAN  AND  A  MESSAGE  95 

"I'd  give  a  good  deal  for  a  talk  with  old  Bruce 
West,"  he  told  himself.  "His  outfit  lies  close  in  to 
these  diggings;  wonder  if  he  has  any  American  boys 
working  for  him?  Why,  a  dozen  of  us,  or  a  half  doz- 
en, would  stand  this  place  on  end !  Yes ;  I'd  like  to  see 
Bruce," 

A  score  of  reasons  flocked  to  him  why  it  was 
desirable  to  see  young  West.  The  boy  was  a  friend, 
and  it  would  be  a  joy  just  to  grip  him  by  the  hand 
again  after  three  years;  Bruce  had  written  to  him  to 
come  and  now  that  events  had  led  him  so  near,  he 
should  grant  the  request;  Bruce  was  having  his  own 
troubles,  no  doubt  against  the  lawlessness  of  Escobar, 
Rios  and  the  rest.  And  finally,  he  and  Bruce  might 
work  things  together  so  that  both  should  derive  benefit. 
Bruce  might  be  in  a  position  to  befriend  Gordon's  little 
daughter. 

So  much  did  Kendric  dwell  on  the  subject  that  night 
that  it  claimed  his  first  thoughts  when  he  woke  in  the 
early  dawn.  And  there  fore,  when  Zoraida's  message 
was  handed  to  him  at  the  breakfast  table,  he  stared  at 
it  with  puzzled  eyes  asking  himself  if  the  amazing 
creature  had  read  his  thoughts  through  thick  walls  of 
adobe. 

Th,e  message  was  typewritten,  even  to  the  signature. 
It  said: 

"No  doubt  Senor  Kendric  would  like  to  see  his  old  friend 
Senor  West  If  he  will  only  set  his  signature  below  what 
follows  he  will  be  given  a  horse,  permission  to  ride  and 
instructions  as  to  direction.  Zoraida." 

And  below  were  the  words,  with  date  and  a  dotted 
line  for  him  to  sign : 


96  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"I  pledge  my  word,  as  a  gentleman,  to  Zoraida  Castelmar, 
that  I  will  return  to  her  at  Hacienda  Montezuma  not  later 
than  daybreak  twenty-four  hours  from  now.  .  .  ." 

"A  take  or  leave  proposition,  clean  cut/'  he  compre- 
hended promptly.  And  as  promptly  he  decided  to  take 
it.  The  maid  who  had  brought  him  the  paper  was 
offering  pen  and  ink.  He  accepted  and  wrote  swiftly : 
"Jim  Kendric." 

"Has  Barlow  breakfasted  yet?"  he  asked,  returning 
to  his  coffee. 

"An  hour  ago,  Senor.    He  has  gone  out." 

"Alone  ?" 

"No,  sefior.    With  La  Sefiorita  Zoraida." 

"Hm,"  said  Kendric.    "AndRios?    And  Escobar?" 

"Senor  Rios  went  to  bed  late;  it  is  his  custom, 
sefior."  The  girl  looked  as  though  she  could  tell  him 
more  but,  with  a  quick  glance  over  her  shoulder,  con- 
tented herself  with  saying  only:  "Sefior  Escobar  is 
with  the  men  outside." 

"And  the  American  girl?     Miss  Gordon?" 

"Asleep  still,  sefior." 

"Has  Escobar  been  near  her?" 

"No,  sefior.  She  has  been  alone  except  for  me  and 
Rosita.  La  pobrecita,"  she  added,  almost  in  a  whisper. 
"She  is  so  frightened." 

"Be  kind  to  her,"  said  Kendric.  He,  too,  looked  over 
his  shoulder.  In  his  pocket  were  the  few  fifty-dollar 
bills  left  to  him  from  his  oil  shares.  "What  is  your 
name?" 

"Juanita,"  she  told  him. 

"All  right,  Juanita;  take  this."  He  slipped  a  bill 
along  the  tablecloth  toward  her.  "Give  Rosita  half, 
you  keep  half.  And  be  kind  to  Miss  Gordon." 

"Oh,  sefior !"  she  cried,  as  in  protest.    But  she  took 


A  MAN  AND  A  MESSAGE  97 

the  bank  note.  Kendric  felt  better  for  the  transaction ; 
he  finished  his  breakfast  with  rare  appetite. 

"Now,"  he  cried,  jumping  up,  "for  the  horse.  Is 
it  ready?" 

Juanita,  the  folded  paper  in  her  hands,  went  with 
him  to  the  door. 

"The  horse  is  ready,  Sefior  Americano,"  she  told 
him.  "It  remains  only  for  me  to  tell  the  boy  that  you 
have  promised  to  return." 

Sure  enough,  pawing  the  gravel  in  front  of  the  house, 
half  jerking  off  his  feet  the  mestizo  holding  it,  was  a 
tall,  rangy  sorrel  horse  looking  as  fine  an  animal  as 
any  man  in  a  hurry  could  wish. 

"Sefior  Kendric  will  ride,  Pedro,"  called  Juanita. 
"Give  him  the  horse." 

Pedro  gave  the  reins  over  to  Kendric  and  turned 
away  toward  the  stables.  Kendric  swung  up  into  the 
saddle  and  for  a  moment  curbed  the  big  sorrel's  dash 
toward  the  gates,  to  say  meditatively  to  Juanita : 

"If  I  took  that  paper  away  from  you  and  made  a 
run  for  it,  what  then?" 

A  look  of  fear  leaped  into  the  girl's  dark  eyes  and 
she  drew  hastily  back,  clutching  the  paper  to  her 
breast.' 

"Sefior!"  she  cried,  breathless  and  aghast.  "You 
would  not !  She — she  would  kill  me !" 

"She  would  what?'  he  scowled. 

"She  would  give  me  to  her  cat,  her  terrible,  terrible 
cat,  to  play  with!"  Juanita  shivered,  and  drew  still 
further  back.  "With  my  life  I  must  guard  this  paper 
until  it  goes  from  my  hand  into  her  hand." 

He  laughed  his  disbelief  and  gave  his  horse  his 
head  at  last.  They  shot  away  through  the  shrubberry  ; 
the  horse  slid  to  a  standstill  before  the  closed  gate. 


98  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Of  the  man  smoking  a  cigaret  before  it  Kendric  said 
curtly : 

"You  are  to  let  me  through.  And  direct  me  to 
Bruce  West's  ranch." 

"Si,  senor."  The  man  opened  the  gate.  "It  is  yon- 
der; up  the  valley.  Tlie  trail  will  carry  you  up  over 
the  mountain;  there  are  piled  stones  to  mark  the  way 
to  the  pass.  In  an  hour,  from  the  other  side  of  the 
ridge,  you  will  see  houses.  Ten  miles  from  there." 

Kendric  rode  through  and  as  he  did  so  his  figure 
straightened  in  the  saddle,  his  shoulders  squared,  he 
put  up  his  head.  Free  and  in  the  open,  if  only  for 
twenty-four  hours.  And  with  a  horse,  a  real  horse, 
between  his  knees.  He  looked  off  to  the  left  to  Bar- 
low's three  peaks;  the  sun  was  gilding  the  top  of  the 
tallest  and  it  was  unquestionable  that  it  was  flat-topped. 
But  he  did  not  dwell  long  upon  buried  gold  nor  yet  on 
the  query  which  suggested  itself :  "Where  were  Bar- 
low and  Zoraida  riding  so  early?"  The  immediate 
present  and  the  immediate  surroundings  were  all  that 
he  cared  to  interest  himself  in  on  a  day  like  this. 

The  man  at  the  gate  had  said  it  was  ten  miles  from 
the  far  side  of  the  ridge  to  the  Bruce  West  ranch 
house;  the  entire  distance,  therefore,  from  the  Ha- 
cienda Montezuma  would  be  about  double  that  dis- 
tance. The  trail,  once  he  reached  the  hills,  was  a  dila- 
tory, leisurely  affair,  thoroughly  Mexican;  it  sought 
out  the  gentlest  slope  always  and  appeared  in  no  haste 
to  arrive  anywhere.  Well,  his  mood  could  be  made 
to  suit  the  trail's;  he  was  in  no  hurry,  having  all  day 
for  his  talk  with  young  West 

The  higher  he  rose  above  the  floor  of  Zoraida's 
grassy  valley  the  steeper  did  his  trail  become,  flanked 
with  cliffs,  at  times  looking  too  sheer  ahead  for  a 
horse.  But  always  the  path  twisted  between  the  boul- 


A  MAN  AND  A  MESSAGE  99 

ders  and  found  the  possible  way  up.  So  he  came  into 
a  splendid  solitude,  a  region  of  naked  rocks,  of  a  few 
windblown  trees,  of  little  open  level  spaces  grown  up 
with  dry  brush  and  wiry  grass;  of  defiles  through 
stone-bound  ways  that  were  so  narrow  two  men  could 
not  have  ridden  through  them  abreast,  so  crooked  that 
a  man  often  could  not  see  ten  steps  ahead  or  ten  steps 
behind,  so  deep  that  he  must  throw  his  head  far  back 
to  see  the  barren  cliff  tops  above  him.  Strips  of  sky, 
seen  thus,  were  deep,  deep  blue. 

It  was  not  at  all  strange,  he  told  himself  during 
one  of  his  meditative  moments  while  his  horse  climbed 
valiantly,  that  Zoraida  should  know  of  his  friendship 
with  Bruce  West,  nor  that  she  should  understand  his 
natural  desire  to  ride  where  he  was  going  this  morn- 
ing. Everyone  in  the  border  town  had  known  of  his 
letter  at  the  postoffice ;  further,  it  was  not  in  the  least 
unlikely  that  Senorita  Castelmar  would  know  of  the 
letter  when  it  was  dropped  into  the  slot  at  the  Mexican 
postoffice.  What  did  strike  him  as  odd,  however,  was 
that  she  should  consent  to  his  leaving  the  ranchv  realiz- 
ing that  he  knew  much  of  her  own  plans  and  would 
doubtless  speak  freely  of  them  and  of  the  American 
girl  held  in  her  house  for  ransom. 

"Not  only  was  she  willing  for  me  to  see  Bruce,"  he 
decided;  "she  wanted  me  to.  Why?" 

His  trail  led  him  into  the  last  narrow  defile  to  be 
encountered  before  reaching  the  summit.  So  closely 
did  the  rocks  press  in  on  each  side  that  often  his  tapa- 
deros  brushed  the  sheer  wall.  He  made  a  turn,  none 
too  wide  for  the  body  of  his  horse  and  drew  sudden 
rein,  looking  into  two  rifle  barrels.  The  men  covering 
him  lay  a  dozen  feet  above  his  head  upon  a  bare,  flat 
rock.  He  could  see  only  the  hands  upon  their  guns, 
the  heads  under  their  tall  hats,  the  shoulders.  But 


ioo  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

he  was  near  enough  to  mark  a  business-like  look  in 
the  hard  black  eyes. 

"You've  got  the  drop  on  me,  companeros"  he  said 
lightly.  "What's  the  game?" 

A  third  man  appeared  on  foot  in  the  trail  before 
him,  stepping  out  from  behind  a  shoulder  of  rock. 
He  came  on  until  he  could  have  put  out  a  hand  to  the 
sorrel's  reins. 

"Where  do  you  ride  so  early?"  asked  the  man  on 
foot,  his  voice  quiet  but  vaguely  hostile.  "On  what 
errand?" 

"What  business  is  it  of  yours,  my  friend?"  re- 
turned Kendric. 

"I  know  the  horse,"  called  one  of  the  figures  above. 
"It  is  El  Rey,  from  the  stables  of  La  Senorita." 

"Then  the  rider  must  have  a  message.  Or  a  sign. 
Or  he  has  stolen  the  horse,  which  would  go  bad  with 
him!" 

"Curse  you  and  your  signs  and  messages,"  cried 
Kendric  hotly.  "It's  a  free  country  and  I  ride  where 
I  please." 

The  man  before  him  only  smiled. 

"Let  me  look  at  your  saddle  strings,"  he  said. 

Kendric  stared  wonderingly ;  was  the  fellow  insane  ? 
What  in  the  name  of  folly  did  he  mean  by  a  thing 
like  this?  Surely  not  just  the  opportunity  to  draw 
close  enough  to  strike  with  a  knife;  the  rifles  above 
made  such  strategy  useless. 

So  he  sat  still  and  contented  himself  with  watching. 
The  man  came  a  step  closer,  twisted  El  Rey's  head 
aside,  pressed  close  and  looked  at  the  rawhide  strings 
on  one  side  of  the  saddle.  Then  he  moved  to  the 
other  side  and  repeated  the  process.  Immediately  he 
drew  back,  lifting  his  hat  widely. 


A  MAN  AND  A  MESSAGE  101 

"Pass  on,  senor,"  he  said  courteously.  "Viva,  La 
Senorita!" 

Kendric  spurred  by  him  and  rode  on,  passing  ab- 
ruptly out  of  a  wilderness  of  tumbled  boulders  into  a 
grassy  flat.  He  turned  in  the  saddle;  nowhere  was 
there  sign  of  another  than  himself  upon  the  mountain. 
Curiously  he  looked  at  his  saddle  strings;  in  one  of 
them  a  slit  had  been  made  through  which  the  end  of 
the  string  had  been  passed;  a  double  knot  had  been 
tied  just  below  the  slit.  In  no  other  particular  was  any 
one  of  the  strings  in  the  least  noteworthy. 

"As  good  a  way  to  carry  a  message  as  any,"  he 
grunted.  "With  not  even  the  messenger  aware  of  the 
tidings  he  brings !" 

The  incident  impressed  him  deeply.  Zoraida,  at  the 
game  she  played,  was  in  deadly  earnest.  Her  commads 
went  far  and  through  many  channels  and  were  obeyed. 
The  passes  through  the  mountains  were  in  her  hands. 
The  sunlight  fell  warm  and  golden  about  him ;  the  full 
morning  was  serene;  a  stillness  as  of  ineffable  peace 
lay  across  the  solitudes.  And  yet  he  felt  that  the 
placid  promise  was  a  lie;  that  the  laughing  loveliness 
of  the  day  was  but  a  mask  covering  much  strife.  In 
the  full  light  he  moved  on  not  unlike  a  man  groping 
in  absolute  darkness,  uncertain  of  the  path  he  trod, 
suspicious  of  pitfalls,  knowing  only  that  his  direction 
was  in  hands  other  than  his  own.  Hands  that  looked 
soft  and  that  were  relentless;  hands  that  blazed  with 
barbaric  jewels.  There  had  been  a  knot  in  a  rawhide 
string,  and  a  bandit  in  the  mountains  had  lifted  his 
hat  and  had  said  simply :  "Long  live  La  Senorita!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

WHICH  BEGINS  WITH  A  LITTLE  SONG  AND  ENDS  WITH 
TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS 

SPECULATION  at  this  stage  was  profitless  and  the 
day  was  perfect.  Kendric  told  himself  critically  that 
he  was  growing  fanciful;  he  had  been  cooped  up  too 
much.  First  on  board  the  schooner  New  Moon,  then 
in  four  walls  of  a  house.  What  he  needed  was  day 
after  day,  stood  on  end,  like  this.  If  he  didn't  look 
out  he'd  be  growing  nerves  next.  He  grinned  widely 
at  the  remote  possibility,  pushed  his  hat  far  back  and 
rode  on.  And  by  the  time  his  horse  had  carried  him 
to  the  far  edge  of  the  level  land  and  to  the  first  slope 
of  the  downward  pitch,  he  was  singing  contentedly  to 
himself  and  his  horse  and  all  the  world  that  cared  to 
listen. 

Far  below,  far  ahead,  he  caught  his  first  glimpse  of 
the  ranch  houses  marking  the  Bruce  West  holdings. 
From  the  heights  his  eye  ran  down  into  valley  lands 
that  stretched  wide  and  far  away,  rolling,  grassy, 
with  occasional  clumps  of  trees  where  there  were 
water  holes.  A  valley  by  no  means  so  prodigally 
watered  as  Zoraida's,  but  none  the  less  an  estate  to 
put  a  sparkle  into  a  man's  eyes.  It  was  large,  it  was 
sufficiently  level  and  fertile;  above  aught  else  it  was 
remote.  It  gave  the  impression  of  a  great,  calm  aloof- 
ness from  the  outside  world  of  traffic  and  congestion; 
it  lay,  mile  after  mile,  sufficient  unto  itself,  a  place  for 
a  lover  of  the  outdoors  to  make  his  home.  No  wonder 

102 


TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS        103 

that  young  West  had  gone  wild  over  it.  Hills  and 
mountains  shut  it  in,  rising  to  the  sky  lines  like  walls 
actually  sustaining  the  blue  cloudless  void.  As  Jim 
Kendric  rode  on  and  down  his  old  song,  his  own  song, 
found  its  way  to  his  lips. 

"Where  skies  are  blue 

And  the  earth  is  wide 
And  it's  only  you 
And  the  mountainside !" 

"Twenty  miles  between  shacks,"  he  considered  ap- 
provingly. "And  never  a  line  fence  to  cut  your  way 
through.  It's  near  paradise,  this  land,  wherever  it 
isn't  just  fair  hell.  No  half  way  business ;  no  maud- 
lin make-believe."  But  all  of  a  sudden  his  face  dark- 
ened. "Poor  little  kid/'  he  said.  "If  Bruce  could  only 
loan  me  half  a  dozen  ready-mixed,  rough  and  ready, 
border  cowboys;  Calif ornians,  Arizonans  and  Tex- 
ans!" 

His  hopes  of  this  were  not  large  at  any  time ;  when 
he  came  upon  the  first  of  Bruce  West's  riders  they 
vanished  entirely.  An  Indian,  or  half  breed  at  the 
best,  ragged  as  to  black  stringy  hair,  hard  visaged, 
stony  eyed.  Kendric  called  to  him  and  the  rider 
turned  in  his  saddle  and  waited.  And  for  answer  to 
the  question :  "Where's  the  Old  Man  ?  Bruce  West  ?" 
the  answer  was  a  hand  lifted  lazily  to  point  up  valley 
and  silence. 

"Gracias,  amigo"  laughed  Kendric  and  rode  on. 

There  was  not  a  more  amazed  man  in  all  Lower 
California  when  Jim  Kendric  rode  up  to  him.  Bruce 
West  was  out  with  two  of  his  men  driving  a  herd  of 
young,  wild-looking  horses  down  toward  the  corrals 
beyond  the  house.  For  an  instant  his  blue  eyes  stared 
incredulously;  then  they  filled  with  shining  joy.  He 


104  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

swept  off  his  broad  hat  to  wave  it  wildly  about  his 
head;  he  came  swooping  down  on  Kendric  as  though 
he  had  a  suspicion  that  his  visitor  had  it  in  his  head 
to  whirl  and  make  a  bolt  for  the  mountains;  he 
whooped  gleefully. 

"Old  Jim  Kendric !"  he  shouted.  "Old  Headlong 
Jim!  Old  r'arin',  tearin',  rambling  rovin',  hell-for- 
leather  Kendric!  Oh,  mama!  Man,  I'm  glad  to  see 
you!" 

Only  a  youngster,  was  Bruce  West,  but  manly  for 
all  that,  who  wore  his  heart  on  his  sleeve,  his  honesty 
in  his  eyes  and  who  would  rather  frolic  than  fight 
but  would  rather  fight  than  do  nothing.  When  last 
Kendric  had  seen  him,  Bruce  was  nursing  his  first 
mustache  and  glorying  in  the  triumphant  fact  that 
soon  he  would  be  old  enough  to  vote ;  now,  barely  past 
twenty-three,  he  looked  a  trifle  thinner  than  his  former 
hundred  and  ninety  pounds  but  never  a  second  older. 
He  was  a  boy  with  blue  eyes  and  yellow  hair  and  a 
profound  adoration  for  all  that  Jim  Kendric  stood  for 
in  his  eager  eyes. 

"Why  all  the  war  paint,  Baby  Blue-eyes?"  Kendric 
asked  as  they  shook  hands.  For  under  Bruce's  knee 
was  strapped  a  rifle  and  a  big  army  revolver  rode  at 
his  saddle  horn. 

Bruce  laughed,  his  mood  having  no  place  for  frowns. 

"Not  just  for  ornament,  old  joy-bringer,"  he  re- 
torted. "Using  'em  every  now  and  then.  I'm  in  deep 
here,  Jim,  with  every  cent  I've  got  and  every  hope 
of  big  things.  Times,  a  man  has  to  shoot  his  way 
out  into  the  clear  or  go  to  the  wall.  Hey,  GauchoJ" 
he  called,  turning  in  his  saddle.  "You  and  Tony  haze 
the  ponies  in  to  the  corrals.  And  tell  Castro  we've 
got  the  King  of  Spain  with  us  for  grub  and  to  put 
on  the  best  on  the  ranch;  well  blow  in  about  noon. 


TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS        105 

Come  ahead,  Jim;  I'll  show  you  the  finest  lay-out  of 
a  cow  outfit  you  ever  trailed  your  eye  across." 

They  rode,  saw  everything,  both  acreage  and  water 
and  stock,  and  talked ;  for  the  most  part  Bruce  did  the 
talking,  speaking  with  quick  enthusiasm  of  what  he 
had,  what  he  had  done,  what  he  meant  to  accomplish 
yet  in  spite  of  obstacles.  He  had  bought  outright  some 
six  thousand  acres,  expending  for  them  and  what  low- 
bred stock  they  fed  all  of  his  inherited  capital.  From 
the  nearest  bank,  at  El  Ojo,  he  had  borrowed  heavily, 
mortgaging  his  outfit.  With  the  proceeds  he  had 
leased  adjoining  lands  so  that  now  his  stock  grazed 
over  ten  thousand  acres;  he  had  also  bought  and  im- 
ported a  finer  strain  of  cattle.  With  the  market  what 
it  was  he  was  bound  to  make  his  fortune,  hand  over 
fist 

"If  they'd  only  leave  me  alone!"  he  exclaimed  hotly. 

"They?"  queried  Kendric. 

"Of  course  the  country  is  unsettled,"  explained  the 
boy.  "Ever  since  I  came  into  it  there  has  been  one 
sort  or  another  of  unrest.  When  it  isn't  outright 
revolution  it's  politics  and  that's  pretty  near  the  same 
thing.  There  are  prowling  bands  of  outlaws,  calling 
themselves  soldiers,  that  the  authorities  can't  reach. 
Look  at  those  mountains  over  there  I  What  govern- 
ment that  has  to  give  half  its  time  or  more  to  watch- 
ing its  own  step,  can  manage  to  ferret  out  every  nest 
of  highwaymen  in  every  canon?  Those  boys  are  my 
big  trouble,  Jim!  A  raid  from  them  is  always  on 
the  books  and  there  are  times  when  I'm  pretty  near 
ready  to  throw  up  the  sponge  and  drift.  But  it's  a 
great  land;  a  great  land.  And  now  you're  with  me!'* 
His  eyes  shone.  "I'll  make  you  any  sort  of  a  propo- 
sition you  call  for,  Jim,  and  together  weTl  make 
history.  Not  to  mention  barrels  of  money." 


io6  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Kendric's  ever-ready  imagination  was  snared.  But 
he  was  in  no  position  to  forget  that  he  had  other  fish 
to  fry. 

"What  do  you  know  of  your  neighbors  ?"  he  asked. 

"Not  much,"  admitted  Bruce.  "And  yet  enough  to 
sabe  what  you're  driving  at.  The  nearest  are  twenty 
miles  away,  at  the  Montezuma  ranch.  The  boss  of 
the  outfit  is  your  old  friend  Ruiz  Rios.  I  told  you 
that  in  my  letter.  I  haven't  the  dead  wood  on  him 
but  it's  open  and  shut  that  he'd  as  soon  chip  in  on  a 
cattle-stealing  deal  as  anything  else/' 

"He  doesn't  own  the  Montezuma/'  said  Kendric. 

"It's  the  same  thing.  The  owner  is  a  woman,  his 
cousin,  I  believe.  But  she's  away  most  of  the  time, 
and  Rios  does  as  he  pleases." 

"You  don't  know  the  lady,  then?" 

"Never  saw  her.  Don't  want  to,  since  she's  got 
Rios  blood  in  her." 

"Let's  get  down  and  roll  a  smoke  and  talk,"  offered 
Kendric.  They  were  on  a  grassy  knoll;  there  were 
oaks  and  shade  and  grass  for  the  horses.  Bruce  looked 
at  him  sharply,  catching  the  sober  note.  But  he  said 
nothing  until  they  were  lying  stretched  out  under  the 
oaks,  holding  the  tie  ropes  at  the  ends  of  which  their 
horses  browsed. 

"Cut  her  loose,  Jim,"  he  said  then.  "What's  the 
story?" 

Kendric  told  him :  Of  his  quest  with  Twisty  Bar- 
low; of  Zoraida  Castlemar  and  her  ambitions;  of  his 
own  situation  in  the  household,  a  prisoner  with  today 
granted  him  only  in  exchange  for  his  word  to  return 
by  dawn;  and  finally  of  Betty  Gordon. 

"Good  God,"  gasped  Bruce.  "They're  going  it  that 
strong?  Out  in  the  open,  too!  And  laying  their 
paws  on  an  American  girl.  Whew !" 


TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS        107 

Kendric  added  briefly  an  account  of  his  being; 
stopped  in  the  pass. 

"It's  a  fair  bet,"  he  concluded,  "that  your  raiders 
get  their  word  straight  from  the  Montezuma  ranch. 
Which  means,  straight  from  the  lips  of  Zoraida 
Castlemar." 

Bruce  fell  to  plucking  at  the  dry  grass,  frowning. 

"Funny  thing,  it  strikes  me,  Jim,  that  if  you're  right 
she  should  give  you  the  chance  to  tip  me  off.  How  do 
you  figure  that  out?" 

"I  haven't  figured  it  out.  Here's  what  we  do  know : 
When  I  was  a  dozen  miles  from  her  place  and  natur- 
ally would  suppose  that,  if  I  chose,  I  was  free  to  play 
out  my  own  hand,  up  popped  those  three  men;  a  re- 
minder, as  plain  as  your  hat,  that  through  their  eyes 
I  was  still  under  the  eyes  of  Zoraida  Castlemar. 
Further,  as  innocent  as  a  fool,  I  carried  a  message  ta 
them  in  a  cut  and  tied  saddle  string.  A  message  that 
was  a  passport  for  me;  what  other  significance  it 
carried,  qiwtfn  sabef  There's  a  red  tassel  on  my 
horse's  bridle;  that  might  be  another  sign,  as  far  as 
you  and  I  know.  The  quirt  at  my  saddle  horn,  the 
chains  in  my  bridle,  the  saddle  itself  or  the  folds  of 
the  saddle  blanket — how  do  we  know  they  don't  all 
carry  her  word?  An  easy  matter,  if  only  the  signal 
is  prearranged." 

"The  fine  craft  of  the  Latin  mind,"  muttered  Bruce. 

"Rather  the  subtlety  of  the  old  Aztecs,"  suggested 
Kendric. 

"But  all  this  could  have  been  done  as  well,  and  tak- 
ing no  chances,  by  one  of  the  Montezuma  riders." 

"Of  course.  Hence,  the  one  thing  clear  is  that  it 
was  desired  that  I  should  see  you.  Since  it  was  ob- 
vious that  I'd  tell  you  what  I  knew,  that's  the  odd  part 
of  it." 


io8  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Why,  it's  madness,  man!  It  gives  us  the  chance, 
if  no  other,  to  get  word  back  home  about  the  little 
Gordon  girl." 

"I'd  thought  of  that.  Just  how  would  we  do  it? 
A  letter  in  the  nearest  postoffice?" 

"You  mean  that  the  postmaster  would  be  on  the 
watch  for  it?  And  would  play  into  her  hands?  Well, 
suppose  we  took  the  trouble  to  send  a  cowboy  to  some 
other,  further  postoffice  ?  Or,  by  golly,  to  send  him  all 
the  way  to  the  border?  Or,  if  I  should  go  with  the 
word  myself?" 

"Answer:  If  you  sent  an  Indian,  how  much  would 
you  bet  that  he  did  not  circle  back  to  the  Montezuma 
ranch  with  the  letter?  If  you  went  yourself,  how  far 
do  you  suppose  you'd  ever  get?" 

Bruce's  eyes  widened. 

"Do  you  suppose  they're  going  that  strong,  Jim?" 

"I  don't  know,  Bruce.  But  tell  me:  if  it  seemed  the 
wise  thing  to  do,  could  you  drop  everything  here  and 
make  a  try  to  get  through  with  the  word?" 

Bruce  looked  worried. 

"It's  my  hunch,"  he  answered,  "that  it  would  be  a 
cheaper  play  for  me  to  pay  the  twenty-five  thousand 
dollar  ransom  and  be  done  with  it !  You  don't  know 
how  bad  things  are  here,  Jim;  if  I  went  and  came 
back  it  would  be  to  find  that  I'd  been  cleaned.  No, 
I'm  not  exaggerating.  And  with  the  mortgage  on  the 
place,  the  next  thing  I  would  know  was  that  it  was 
foreclosed  and  in  the  end  I'd  lose  everything  I've  got." 

"From  which  I  gather  you  don't  put  a  whole  lot  of 
confidence  in  your  cowboys?" 

"That's  the  plain  hell  of  it!  Not  only  have  I  got 
to  sleep  with  one  eye  on  my  stock ;  I've  got  to  keep  the 
other  peeled  on  the  men  that  are  taking  my  pay.  I 


TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS       109 

never  know  what  other  man's  pay  they're  taking  at 
the  same  time/' 

"Or  what  woman's.  Well,  I  imagine  Miss  Castle- 
mar  knows  conditions  as  well  as  we  do,  if  not  a  good 
deal  better.  So  it  looks  as  though  she  were  taking 
no  chances  in  letting  me  ride  over  to  see  you ;  and  it 
remains  possible  that  by  so  doing  I  am  furthering  her 
purpose.  Though  just  how,  is  another  thing  I  don't 
know." 

"She  must  be  some  corker  of  a  female,"  muttered 
Bruce.  "What  does  she  look  like,  Jim?" 

"Tail  Young  and  not  bad  looking.  Vain  as  a 
peacock  and  high  and  mighty." 

"That  kind  of  a  girl  makes  me  sick,"  was  young1 
Bruce's  quick  decision,  "Let's  ride  back,  Jim;  it'll 
be  time  to  eat." 

As  they  rode  slowly  down  toward  the  ranch  house 
Bruce  pointed  out  how,  living  in  constant  expectation 
of  the  operations  of  cattle  and  horse  theives,  he  took 
what  precautions  he  could  The  pick  of  his  saddle 
horses,  a  dozen  of  them,  were  grazed  during  the  day 
in  the  fields  near  the  house  and  at  night  were  brought 
in  and  stabled  A  number  of  the  finest  cattle,  including 
a  thoroughbred  Hereford  bull  and  forty  beautiful 
Hereford  cows,  recently  purchased,  were  driven  each 
evening  into  the  nearest  fields  where  from  dark  to 
daylight  they  were  herded  by  a  night  rider. 

"I've  got  to  take  it  for  granted,"  explained  West, 
"that  at  least  some  of  my  vacqueros  are  on  the  level. 
I  pick  my  best  men  for  jobs  like  this.  And  I've  al- 
ways got  night  riders  out,  making  their  rounds  from 
one  end  of  the  valley  to  the  other.  On  top  of  all 
that  I've  got  my  dogs;  look,  here  they  come  to  meet 


us." 


There  were  ten  of  them,  big  tan  and  white  collies,. 


no  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

vying  with  one  another  to  come  first  to  their  master. 
Splendid  animals  all  of  them,  but  at  the  fore  ran  the 
most  splendid  of  them  all,  the  father  and  patriarch  of 
his  flock.  It  was  his  keen  nostril  and  eye  that  was 
wont  first  to  know  who  came ;  his  superb  strength  and 
speed  carried  him  well  in  the  lead  and  he  guarded  his 
supremacy  jealously.  His  sharp  teeth  snapped  vi- 
ciously when  a  hardy  son  ran  close  at  his  side  and  the 
youngster,  though  he  snarled  and  bristled,  swerved 
widely  and  thus  fell  back.  They  barked  as  they  swept 
on,  the  sharp,  stacatto  bark  of  their  breed. 

"They're  something  I  can  trust,"  said  Bruce 
proudly.  "No  hand  but  mine  feeds  them;  if  I  catch 
.a  man  carressing  one  of  them  he  draws  his  pay  and 
quits.  And  I  go  to  sleep  of  nights  reasonably  sure 
that  their  din  will  wake  me  if  an  outsider  sets  foot 
near  the  home  corrals.  Hi !  Monarch !  Jump  for  it." 

From  his  pocket  he  brought  out  a  bit  of  dried  beef, 
the  "jerky"  of  the  southwest.  He  held  it  out  arm's 
length,  sending  his  horse  racing  forward  with  a  sud- 
den touch  of  his  spur.  The  big  dog  barked  eagerly 
and  launched  his  sinewy  body  into  the  air ;  the  sunlight 
flashed  back  a  moment  from  the  bared  sharp  teeth; 
Monarch  dropped  softly  back  to  earth  with  the  dried 
beef  already  bolted.  Bruce  laughed. 

At  the  house,  like  Zoraida's  in  the  matters  of  age 
and  thick,  cool  walls,  but  much  smaller,  they  found  an 
excellent  meal  awaiting  them.  They  ate  under  a  leafy 
grape  arbor  on  the  shady  side  of  the  house,  half  a 
dozen  of  Bruce's  men  sitting  at  table  with  them. 
Kendric  regarded  the  men  with  interest,  feeling  that 
their  scrutiny  of  him  was  no  less  painstaking.  They 
were  swarthy  Indians  and  half-breeds  and  little  else 
did  he  make  of  them.  Their  eyes  met  his,  steady  and 


TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS        in 

unwinking,  but  gave  no  clue  to  what  thoughts  might 
lie  back  of  them. 

"I'll  bet  Bruce  sleeps  with  a  gun  under  his  pillow," 
was  Kendric' s  thought  at  the  end  of  the  meal. 

By  the  well,  under  some  shade  trees  in  the  yard, 
the  two  friends  sat  and  smoked,  watching  the  men 
laze  away  to  the  stables.  Thereafter  they  spoke  quietly 
of  the  captive  in  the  Hacienda  Montezuma. 

'It's  not  to  be  thought  of,"  said  Bruce,  "that  a 
scared  little  kid  like  her  is  to  be  held  that  way  and  we 
sit  like  two  bumps  on  a  log.  Looks  like  her  troubles 
were  up  to  you  and  me,  Jim." 

In  the  end  they  agreed  that  at  least  it  was  unthink- 
able that  Betty  Gordon  would  suffer  any  bodily  injury 
in  the  same  house  with  Zoraida  and  her  girls; 
further,  that  the  greatest  access  of  terror  had  no  doubt 
passed.  One  grew  accustomed  to  pretty  nearly  every- 
thing. Kendric,  bound  by  his  parole  to  return,  would 
seek  the  girl  out  and  extend  to  her  what  comfort  he 
could ;  just  to  know  that  she  was  not  altogether  friend- 
less would  bring  hope  and  its  own  sort  of  gladness. 
Tonight,  as  soon  as  the  men  came  in  and  it  was  dark, 
they  would  send  Manuel,  Bruce' s  most  trustworthy 
man,  to  a  forty-mile  distant  postoffice.  He  would 
carry  with  him  two  letters:  one  would  be  addressed 
to  the  governor  of  Lower  California  and  one  to 
friends  in  San  Diego. 

"It's  about  the  best  we  can  do  on  short  notice," 
admitted  Kendric,  though  he  was  dissatisfied.  "I'm 
not  figuring,  though,  that  it's  in  the  cards  for  me  to 
stick  overlong  under  the  same  roof  with  Rios  and  his 
crowd.  There's  the  schooner  down  in  the  gulf  and 
there's  you  for  us  to  count  on.  Never  fret,  old  Baby 
Blue-eyes;  we'll  have  her  out  of  that  yet." 

The  letters  were  written ;  a  little  after  dusk  Manuel 


H2  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

set  forth,  promised  a  double  month's  pay  if  he  suc- 
ceeded and  in  return  promising  by  all  the  saints  he 
could  call  to  tongue  that  he  would  guard  the  letters 
with  his  life.  From  their  chairs  on  the  porch  Kendric 
and  Bruce  saw  the  man  depart.  When  his  figure  had 
dimned  and  blurred  into  the  gathering  night  they  still 
sat  on,  silent,  watching  the  stars  come  out.  Bruce 
had  brought  out  cigars  and  the  red  embers  glowed 
companionably.  Presently  Bruce  sighed. 

"It's  a  great  little  old  land,"  he  said,  and  the  inflec- 
tion of  the  quietly  spoken  words  was  that  of  affection. 
"A  man  could  ask  for  no  better,  Jim,  Conditions 
right  now  are  damnable ;  you've  got  to  scrap  all  along 
the  line  for  what's  yours.  But  what  do  you  know  that 
is  worth  the  having  that  isn't  worth  the  fighting  for? 
And  one  of  these  fine  days  when  Mexico  settles  down 
to  business,  sort  of  grows  up  and  gets  past  the  school- 
boy stage,  we'll  have  the  one  combination  now  lack- 
ing— law  and  order." 

Kendric,  who  had  been  reflecting  upon  other  matters, 
made  no  immediate  reply.  Bruce  had  the  answer  to  his 
suggestion  of  a  new  order  of  things  but  it  came  from 
the  darkness  beyond  his  barns.  There  was  a  sudden 
sharp  bark  from  one  of  his  dogs,  then  a  rising  clamor 
as  the  whole  pack  broke  into  excited  barking.  From  so 
far  away  that  the  sound  barely  reached  them  came  a 
'man's  voice,  exclaiming  angrily.  Then  a  rifle  shot,  a 
long,  shrill  whistle,  shouts  and  the  sudden  thud  of 
many  racing  hoofs. 

Bruce  West  toppled  over  his  chair  and  plunged 
through  the  nearest  door.  It  was  dark  in  the  house 
and  Kendric  heard  him  strike  against  a  second  chair, 
send  it  crashing  to  the  floor  and  dash  on.  In  a  mo- 
ment Bruce  was  back  on  the  porch,  a  rifle  in  each 


TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS        113 

hand.  One  he  thrust  out  to  Kendric,  muttering  be- 
tween his  teeth, 

"Raiders,  or  we're  in  luck.  Damned  rebel  outlaws. 
Come  o»r 

He  ran  out  into  the  yard,  Kendric  at  his  heels 
pumping  a  shell  into  tike  barrel  As  they  turned  a 
corner  of  the  house  Bruce  stopped  dead  in  his  track 
and  Kendric  bumped  into  him  and  stopped  with  him. 
Already  the  barns  were  on  fire ;  two  tall  flames  stabbed 
upward  at  the  dark;  the  hissing  of  burning  wood  and 
fodder  must  have  reached  their  ears  in  five  minutes 
had  the  pack  given  no  warning.  In  the  rapidly  grow- 
ing light  they  saw  the  dogs  where,  bunched  together, 
they  snarled  and  snapped  and  broke  into  wilder  baying. 

Bruce  began  shouting,  calling  to  his  men,  three  or 
four  of  whom  came  running  out  of  the  house.  Be- 
yond the  barns  they  made  out  vague  forms,  whether 
of  cattle  or  horses  or  riders  it  was  at  first  impossible 
to  know.  .  Again  they  ran  forward ;  from  somewhere 
in  the  direction  of  the  corrals  came  several  rifle  re- 
ports. With  the  gun  shots  a  confusion  of  shouts 
through  the  heavier  notes  of  which  rose  one  voice, 
as  high  pitched  as  a  woman's. 

In  the  barn  lofts  the  flames  were  spreading  in  a 
thousand  directions,  each  dry  stalk  serving  as  a  duct 
of  destruction.  The  fire  shot  upward  and  the  roof 
blossomed  in  red  flames.  Bruce  groaned  and  cursed 
and  prayed  wildly  for  a  glimpse  of  one  of  the  devils 
who  had  done  this  for  him.  Big  clouds  of  smoke 
drifted  upward  across  the  stars,  shot  through  with 
flying  sparks.  Swiftly  the  lurid  light  spread  until  the 
white  walls  of  the  house  stood  out  distinctly  and  the 
forms  near  the  corrals  were  no  longer  vague.  They 
were  running  cattle,  Bruce's  choice  forty  cows;  Ken- 
dric saw  the  fine  bred  Hereford  bull's  horns  glint,  heard 


H4  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

the  snort  of  fear  and  rage,  made  out  the  big  bulk  crush- 
ing a  way  to  the  fore  among  his  terrified  companions. 
There  were  horses,  too,  running  wild,  the  animals 
from  the  stables  and  the  near  corraL  And  behind 
them,  shouting  and  now  and  then  firing  into  the  air 
to  hasten  the  laggards,  were  many  horsemen.  How 
many  it  was  impossible  to  estimate,  a  dozen  at  the 
least,  perhaps  fifty. 

As  the  black  mass  of  frightened  beasts  gathered 
forward  headway  and  shot  through  the  area  of  light, 
Kendric  saw  one  horseman  clearly.  On  the  instant 
he  threw  up  his  rifle.  Already  his  finger  was  crook- 
ing to  the  trigger  when,  with  a  mutter  of  rage,  he 
lowered  his  arm.  There  was  no  mistaking  that  great 
white  horse  and  he  thought  that  there  was  as  little 
mistaking  its  rider,  a  slender,  upright  figure  leading 
the  rush  of  the  raiders,  calling  out  sharp  orders  in 
the  clear  ringing  voice,  sweeping  on  recklessly.  He 
cursed  her  but  he  held  back  his  fire.  Of  women  he 
knew  little  enough  and  for  women  there  had  been 
no  place  reserved  in  his  life;  but,  for  all  that  and  all 
that  Zoraida  Castlernar  might  be  and  might  do,  he 
had  not  learned  to  lift  his  hand  against  her  sex. 

But  there  was  nothing  in  what  Bruce  saw  to  re- 
strain him.  He  fired  while  his  rifle  was  rising  to  his 
shoulder  and  again  and  again  with  the  stock  against 
his  cheek. 

"Damn  the  light!"  he  growled,  and  fired  again. 

Through  the  tumult  Kendric  heard  her  laughter. 
None  other  than  Zoraida  could  laugh  like  that.  Again 
the  suspicion  flashed  into  his  quickened  brain  that  the 
girl  was  mad.  He  heard  several  shots  behind  him; 
Bruce's  men  were  taking  a  hand.  Then,  close  behind 
the  white  mare  came  a  second  horseman  and  Kendric 
thanked  God  for  a  man  for  a  target  and  fired  at  it. 


TROUBLE  BETWEEN  FRIENDS       115 

Luck  if  he  hit  it,  he  told  himself,  at  that  distance 
and  running  and  in  that  flickering  light.  But  he  fired 
again,  ran  in  closer  and  fired  the  third  time.  And 
just  as  the  white  mare  passed  on  through  the  illumed 
area  and  was  lost  in  the  dark  with  its  rider  he  saw 
his  man  pitch  forward  and  plunge  to  the  ground. 
Other  forms  swept  by,  other  shots  were  fired  both 
from  the  outlaws  and  toward  them.  The  darkness 
accepted  them  all  and  no  other  man  fell. 

Shouts  floated  back  to  them  above  the  hammering 
thud  of  the  fleeing  cows  and  horses.  Into  the  dark- 
ness after  them  Bruce  and  Kendric  and  Bruce' s  men 
sent  many  questing  bullets  while  now  and  then  an 
answering  leaden  pellet  screamed  over  their  heads. 
Swiftly  the  clamor  of  the  receding  hoof-beats  less- 
ened; no  voices  returned  to  them;  no  wild  rider  was 
to  be  seen.  The  night  pulsed  only  to  the  barks  of  the 
dogs  and  the  roar  of  the  devastating  flames. 

Bruce  was  calling  loudly  to  his  men  to  get  to  horse 
and  follow.  But  while  he  spoke  he  broke  off  hope- 
lessly realizing  that  not  a  horse  was  left  to  him.  Be- 
fore he  and  his  herders  could  get  into  saddle  they  must 
wait  for  daylight  and  must  waste  hours  in  driving  in 
horses  from  the  distant  pastures,  wild  brutes  for  the 
most  part  that  a  man  could  never  get  near  enough 
on  foot  to  rope.  He  threw  out  his  arms  in  a  wide 
gesture  of  despair.  Thereafter  he  stood,  silent  and 
moody,  watching  his  hay-filled  barns  burn. 

"If  I  could  get  my  hands  on  the  man  that  engineered 
this,"  he  said,  his  voice  broken,  barely  carrying  to 
Kendric  a  few  paces  away.  "That's  all  I  ask." 

Kendric,  his  rage  scarcely  less  than  Bruce's,  called 
back  to  him: 

"I  could  lead  you  as  straight  as  a  string.  It's  the 
handiwork  of  your  neighbor." 


n6  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Rios?"  cried  Bruce  eagerly. 

"Zoraida  Castelmar." 

"Damn  her !"  cried  the  boy.  In  the  firelight  Ken- 
dric  saw  his  steady  eyes  glisten  and  knew  that  they 
were  filled  with  tears,  the  terrible  tears  of  rage  rising 
above  anguish.  "Damn  her!" 

After  that  he  stood  silent  again  looking  at  the  burn- 
ing buildings.  When  a  new  flame  spurted  skyward, 
when  a  section  of  roof  fell,  he  twitched  as  though  his 
muscles  knew  physical  pain.  At  last  he  turned  away 
and  Kendric  saw  a  face  that  it  was  hard  to  recognize 
as  the  boyish  face  of  blue-eyed  Bruce  West. 

"This  beats  me,"  said  Bruce,  quietly.  "Best  stock 
gone,  new  barns  and  hay  turned  to  cinders.  Ten 
thousand  dollars  wiped  out  in  an  hour.  Yes;  I'm 
done  for,  Jim,  old  man.  Clean." 

Kendric  found  no  word  of  answer.  He  turned 
away  and  went  down  to  the  broken  corrals  where  the 
man  behind  Zoraida  had  fallen.  If  the  man  were  not 
dead  he  might  be  induced  to  talk.  And  in  any  case, 
thief  though  he  was,  he  was  a  man  and  not  a  dog. 
He  found  the  huddled  body  lying  still.  Kneeling,  he 
turned  it  over  so  that  the  wavering  light  shone  on 
the  face.  He  did  not  know  whether  the  man  was  dead 
or  not;  he  knew  only  that  it  was  Twisty  Barlow.  He 
squatted  there,  looking  from  the  white  face  to  the  sky 
full  of  stars.  And  his  thought  was  less  on  the  instant 
of  Twisty  Barlow  than  of  Zoraida  Castlemar. 

"This  is  what  *he  has  done  for  two  old  friends," 
he  said  aloud. 


CHAPTER  X 

IN  WHICH  A  MAN  KEEPS  HIS  WORD  AND  ZORAIDA  DARES 
AND  LAUGHS 

KENDRIC  called  to  Bruce.  Together  they  carried 
the  unconscious  Barlow  into  the  house.  Kendric,  once 
satisfied  that  his  old  friend's  heart  still  beat,  scarcely 
breathed  until  he  lighted  a  lamp  and  found  the  wound. 
It  was  in  the  shoulder  and  not  only  did  not  appear 
dangerous,  but  failed  to  explain  the  man's  condition 
of  coma.  There  was  a  trickle  of  blood  across  the 
pale  forehead;  Kendric  pushed  back  the  hair  and 
found  a  cut  there,  ragged  and  filled  with  dirt.  Plainly 
the  impact  of  the  heavy  bullet  had  sufficed  to  unseat 
the  sailor  who,  pitching  out  of  the  saddle  and  striking 
on  his  head,  had  been  stunned  by  the  fall. 

Kendric  bathed  and  bandaged  both  wounds  while 
Bruce  went  for  a  bottle  of  brandy. 

"He's  coming  around,"  said  Kendric  as  Barlow's 
throat  received  the  stinging  liquor.  "I  don't  want  to 
be  on  hand  when  he  opens  his  eyes,  Bruce;  for  ten 
years  I've  called  Twisty  by  the  name  of  friend.  He's 
down  and  out  for  a  little  and  what  we  two  have  to 
say  to  each  other  can  wait  a  spell." 

Bruce,  stolidfaced  now  and  morose,  nodded.  Ken- 
dric went  outside  and  stood  watching  the  flames  work 
their  will  with  Bruce's  barns,  his  heart  heavy  within 
him.  One  friend  down,  a  bullet  hole  in  his  shoulder, 
shot  as  a  raiding  cattle  thief;  another  friend  looking 
to  have  lost  his  boyish  nature  with  the  loss  of  his 

1x7 


n8  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

hope.  And  both  rendered  what  they  were  through 
the  wickedness  of  a  woman.  Woman?  As  he 
brooded  over  the  devastation  she  had  wrought  he 
began  to  think  of  her  as  an  evil  spirit.  He  recalled 
with  a  shiver  the  feel  of  her  burning  eyes,  hidden  but 
potent;  he  thought  of  the  nights  at  sea  when  he  had 
felt  her  presence.  For  the  first  time  he  allowed  him- 
self to  wonder  in  all  seriousness  if  she  had  powers 
above  a  mere  woman's  as  she  had  a  character  set  apart. 

And,  after  all  that  happened,  he  must  return  to 
her!  He,  Jim  Kendric,  must  leave  Twisty  Barlow, 
wounded,  and  Bruce  West,  ruined,  and  return  to 
Zoraida  Castlemar  who  had  set  her  brand  upon  both  of 
them.  His  twenty-four-hour  leave  would  expire  at 
daybreak.  He  had  meant  to  spend  the  evening  with 
Bruce  and  then  to  ride  back  during  the  night.  Now, 
for  the  first  time,  he  realized  that  the  raiders  had  set 
him  on  foot  The  twenty  miles  to  the  Montezuma 
ranch  would  have  to  be  walked. 

"And  I'd  better  be  on  my  way,"  he  decided  promptly. 
It  did  not  enter  his  head  that  he  had  an  excuse  to 
offer  for  making  a  tardy  appearance.  He  had  pledged 
his  word,  and,  while  it  was  humanly  possible,  he  would 
keep  it.  Even  were  it  impossible  it  would  have  been 
Jim  Kendric's  way  to  try.  And  now  he  was  not 
sorry  for  an  excuse  for  leaving  early.  He  could  do 
nothing  for  Bruce;  what  must  be  said  between  him 
and  Twisty  Barlow  could  come  later. 

It  was  then,  while  he  was  returning  to  the  house, 
that  he  saw  a  steady  light  shining  out  in  the  fields. 
He  stopped,  at  first  fearing  that  a  fresh  fire  was  break- 
ing out. 

"Not  thieves  but  cursed  marauders,"  he  named  the 


A  MAN  KEEPS  HIS  WORD  119 

crowd  to  which  Bruce  had  already  lost  so  heavily. 
"They've  fired  the  dry  grass." 

But  while  he  watched  it  the  light  did  not  alter, 
neither  flaring  up  nor  dying  down,  burning  steadily 
like  a  lamp.  When  after  two  or  three  minutes  he 
observed  this  he  left  the  house  and  walked  out  into 
the  field,  keeping  to  the  shadows  when  he  could,  watch- 
ful and  suspicious.  Thus  presently  he  came  to  see 
what  it  was :  a  lantern  tied  from  a  low  limb  of  a  tree. 
Below  the  lantern  he  saw  a  dark  object ;  it  moved  and 
he  heard  the  clink  of  a  bridle  chain.  Again  he  went 
forward,  puzzled  and  curious.  He  made  out  that  the 
saddle  was  empty ;  he  could  see  no  one  near.  A  man 
might  be  hiding  behind  the  bole  of  the  oak  or  might 
even  be  above  in  the  branches.  Inwardly  Kendric 
prayed  that  he  was.  He  was  ready  for  a  meeting 
with  any  loiterer  of  Zoraida's  following.  His  pulses 
stirred  as  he  thought  that  it  might  even  be  Rios  or 
Escobar. 

But  though  he  circled  the  tree  and  peered  long  into 
the  shadows  among  the  branches,  he  still  saw  no  one. 
At  last  he  came  close  to  the  tethered  horse.  It  was 
his  own,  the  sorrel  El  Rey  he  had  ridden  here  this 
morning,  saddled  and  bridled,  spurs  slung  to  the  horn. 
The  lantern  shed  its  rays  upon  the  saddle  and  Kendric 
saw  something  else  at  the  horn ;  a  bunch  of  little  blue 
field  flowers,  held  in  place  by  a  bit  of  white  ribbon. 

He  snatched  the  flowers  down  angrily,  trampled  on 
them,  ground  them  under  foot.  They  seemed  to  him 
a  bit  of  Zoraida  herself;  they  taunted  him,  they  bore 
the  message  she  sent.  They  were  her  summons  to 
come  back  to  her.  He  jerked  free  the  tie  rope  and 
swung  up  into  the  saddle,  eager  and  anxious  to  go 
back  to  her  the  swiftest  way  in  order  that  the  time 
might  come  the  more  swiftly  when  he  could  fulfil  his 


DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

word  and  be  free  to  leave  her.  He'd  get  a  rifle  from 
Bruce-;  with  that  and  his  revolver  he'd  take  his  chance, 
let  all  of  her  infernal  rabble  bar  the  way. 

From  the  rear  of  the  house  he  called  to  Bruce, 

"I've  found  my  horse;  they  left  him  behind,"  he 
said  as  Bruce  came  out.  "I've  got  to  go  back,  so 
back  I  go  the  quickest  I  know  how.  Take  decent 
care  of  Barlow;  he  was  a  real  man  once  and  may  be 
again,  if  he  can  shake  that  damned  woman  off.  Lend 
me  a  rifle  if  you  can  spare  it  I'll  see  you  again  as 
soon  as  the  Lord  lets  me.  So  long." 

"So  long,  Jim,"  returned  Bruce  drearily.  He 
brought  out  a  rifle,  holding  it  out  wordlessly.  And 
Kendric  rode  away  into  the  night. 

In  the  mountains,  though  in  another  narrow  pass, 
he  was  stopped  as  he  had  been  this  morning.  A  lan- 
tern was  flashed  in  his  face  and  over  his  horse.  Then 
he  was  allowed  to  go  on  while  from  the  darkness  a 
voice  cried  after  him: 

"Viva  Le  Senorita!" 

From  afar  he  saw  lights  burning  down  in  the  valley 
and  recognized  them  as  the  lamps  in  the  four  wall 
towers.  The  gates  were  closed  but  at  his  call  a  man 
appeared  from  the  shadows  and  opened  to  him.  He 
rode  in ;  dismounting,  he  let  the  rifle  slip  into  a  hiding 
place  in  the  shrubbery;  another  man  at  the  front  cor- 
ridor took  his  horse.  At  about  midnight  he  again 
entered  the  old  adobe  building.  The  main  hall  into 
which  he  stepped  through  the  front  door  was  still 
brightly  lighted  with  its  several  lamps;  through  open 
doors  he  saw  that  nowhere  in  the  house  were  lights 
out.  Yet  it  was  very  quiet;  he  heard  neither  voice 
nor  step. 

He  knew  where  Zoraida  was;  no  doubt  Rios  and 


A  MAN  KEEPS  HIS  WORD  121 

Escobar  were  with  her.  He  had  kept  his  word  and 
returned  to  his  prison  like  a  good  dog;  what  reason 
why  he  should  not  take  advantage  of  what  appeared 
an  unusual  opportunity  and  make  his  attempt  at  es- 
cape? Zoraida  would  not  have  counted  on  his  re- 
turning so  early ;  he  carried  a  revolver  under  his  arm 
pit  and  hidden  in  the  garden  was  a  rifle.  To  be  sure 
there  were  risks  to  be  run;  but  now,  if  ever,  struck 
him  as  the  time  to  run  them. 

If  he  could  only  find  where  Betty  Gordon  slept.  He 
must  give  her  a  word  of  hope  before  he  left  her  here 
among  these  devils ;  assuring  her  that  he  would  return 
for  her  and  bring  the  law  with  him.  Or,  if  she  had 
the  nerve  and  the  desire  to  attempt  escape  with  him 
now,  that  was  her  right  and  he  would  go  as  far  as 
a  man  could  to  bring  her  through  to  safety.  Noise- 
lessly he  crossed  the  room.  He  would  pass  through 
the  music  room  and  down  the  hall  toward  the  living 
quarters  of  the  house.  If  luck  were  with  him  he 
would  find  her. 

It  was  only  when  he  was  about  to  pass  out  of  the 
music  room  door  going  to  the  hallway  that  he  heard 
voices  for  the  first  time.  They  came  from  a  distance, 
dulled  and  deadened  by  the  oak  doors,  but  he  knew 
them  for  the  voices  of  men,  raised  in  anger.  A  louder 
word  now  and  then  brought  him  recognition  of  Ruiz 
Rios's  voice;  a  sharp  answer  might  have  been  from 
Escobar.  He  stopped  and  considered.  If  these  men 
quarreled,  how  would  it  affect  him?  Quarrel  they 
would,  soon  or  late,  he  knew.  For  both  were  trucu- 
lent and  in  the  looks  he  had  seen  pass  between  them 
there  was  no  friendship.  Two  rebellious  spirits  held 
in  check  by  the  will  of  Zoraida  Gastelmar.  But  now 
Zoraida  was  away. 

Then  for  the  moment  he  forgot  them  and  his  con- 


122  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

jectures.  He  had  heard  a  faint  sound  and  turning 
quickly  saw  for  the  first  time  that  he  was  not  alone 
in  the  music  room.  In  a  dim  corner  beyond  the 
piano  was  a  cushioned  seat  and  on  it,  her  hands  clasped 
in  her  lap,  her  eyes  wide  with  the  sleeplessness  and 
anxiety  of  the  night,  crouched  Betty  Gordon.  He 
took  a  quick  step  toward  her.  She  drew  back,  pressed 
tight  against  the  wall,  her  look  one  of  terror.  Terror 
of  him! 

But  he  came  on  until  he  stood  over  her,  looking 
down  into  her  raised  face.  He  felt  no  end  of  pity 
for  her,  she  looked  so  small  and  helpless  and  hope- 
less. Big  gray  eyes  pleaded  with  him  and  he  read 
and  understood  that  she  asked  only  that  he  go  and 
leave  her.  An  impulse  which  was  utterly  new  to  him 
surged  over  him  now,  the  impulse  to  gather  her  up 
into  his  arms  as  one  would  a  child  and  comfort  her. 
Not  that  she  was  just  a  child.  She  had  done  her 
shining  brown  hair  high  up  on  her  head;  she  fought 
wildly  for  an  air  of  serene  dignity;  he  judged  her  at 
the  last  of  her  teens.  But  she  was  none  the  less  flower- 
like,  all  that  a  true  woman  should  be  according  to  the 
beliefs  of  certain  men  of  the  type  of  Jim  Kendric,  a 
true  descendant  of  her  sweet,  old-fashioned  grand- 
mothers. Her  little  high-heeled  slippers,  her  dainty 
blue  dress,  the  flower  which  even  in  her  distress  she 
had  tucked  away  in  her  hair,  were  quite  as  he  would 
have  had  them. 

"Betty  Gordon,"  he  said  softly  so  that  his  words 
would  not  carry  to  other  ears,  "I  want  to  help  you  if 
you  will  let  me.  Will  you?" 

Her  clasped  hands  tightened;  he  saw  the  lips  trem- 
ble before  she  could  command  her  utterance. 

"I— I  don't  know  what  to  do/'  she  faltered.  Her 
eyes  clung  to  his  frankly,  filled  with  shining  eagerness 


A  MAN  KEEPS  HIS  WORD  123 

to  read  the  heart  under  the  outer  man.  For  the  first 
time  Jim  was  conscious  of  his  several  days'  growth 
of  beard;  he  supposed  that  it  was  rather  more  than 
an  even  chance  that  his  face  was  grimy  and  perhaps 
still  carried  evidences  of  the  fight  at  Bruce  West's 
ranch.  To  assure  her  of  his  honorable  intentions  to- 
ward her  he  could  have  wished  for  a  bath  and  a  shave. 

"You're  in  the  hands  of  a  rather  bad  crowd,"  he 
said  when  he  saw  that  she  had  no  further  words 
but  was  waiting  for  him.  "I  thought  that  at  least 
it  would  be  a  relief  to  know  that  you  had  one  friend 
on  the  job.  And  an  American  at  that,"  he  concluded 
heartily. 

"How  am  I  to  know  who  is  a  friend?"  She  shiv- 
ered and  pressed  tight  against  the  wall.  "That  ter- 
rible man  named  Escobar  spoke  to  me  of  friendship, 
and  he  is  the  one  who  gave  orders  to  bring  me  here ! 
And  the  other  man,  Rios,  he  spoke  words  that  did 
not  go  with  the  look  in  his  eyes.  And  you — you " 

"Well?     What  about  me?" 

"You  are  one  of  them.  I  find  you  staying  in  their 
house.  You  are  the  lover  of  Sefiorita  Castelmar  and 
she  is  terrible!  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"Who  told  you  that  ?"  he  demanded  sharply.  "That 
I  was  Zoraida's  lover?" 

"One  of  the  maids,  Rosita.  She  told  me  that 
Zoraida  is  mad  about  you-  And  that  you  are  a  great 
adventurer  and  have  killed  many  men  and  are  a  pro- 
fessional gambler." 

"Rosita  lied.     I  am  just  a  prisoner  here,  like  you." 

Sheer  disbelief  shone  in  Betty's  eyes. 

"You  rode  away,  alone,  this  morning,"  she  said. 
"I  saw  you  through  my  window.  You  come  in  alone 
tonight  You  are  not  a  prisoner." 

"I  was  allowed  to  leave  the  house  only  when  I 


124  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

promised  to  come  back.  Can't  you  tell  when  a  man 
is  speaking  the  truth?  Good  Lord,  why  should  I 
want  to  lie  to  you?" 

Betty  hesitated  a  long  time,  her  hands  nervous,  her 
eyes  unfaltering  on  his.  She  looked  at  once  drawn 
and  repelled,  fascinated  like  a  little  bird  fluttering 
under  the  baleful  eyes  of  a  snake. 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  she  asked  finally. 

"I,  for  one,"  he  retorted,  "refuse  to  squat  here  like 
a  fool  because  I'm  told.  I'm  going  to  make  a  break 
for  it.  You  can  take  the  chance  with  me  or  you  may 
remain  here  and  know  that  I'll  do  what  can  be  done 
outside." 

Betty  shook  her  head,  sighing. 

'I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  she  said  miserably. 

Jim  pondered  and  frowned.  Then  he  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"It's  up  to  you,  Betty  Gordon,"  he  said  "You're 
old  enough  to  think  for  yourself.  I  can't  decide  for 
you.  But  if  you  were  mine,  my  sister  for  instance, 
I'd  grab  you  up  and  make  a  bolt  for  it.  A  clean 
bullet  is  a  damned  sight  more  to  my  liking  than  the 
dirty  paws  of  such  as  Rios  and  Escobar  and  their 
following.  They've  got  a  guard  around  the  house 
which  they  seem  to  think  sufficient."  Again  he 
shrugged.  "I've  got  my  notion  we  can  slip  through 
and  make  the  mountains  at  the  rear." 

"If  I  only  knew  I  could  trust  you,"  moaned  Betty. 

A  glint  of  "anger  shone  in  Jim's  eyes. 

"Suit  yourself,"  he  told  her  curtly.  "I  can  promise 
you  it  will  be  a  lot  easier  for  me  in  a  scrimmage  and 
a  get-away  without  a  woman  to  look  out  for." 

Immediately  he  was  ashamed  of  having  been  brusque 
with  her.  For  she  was  only  a  little  slip  of  a  girl 
after  all  and  obviously  one  who  had  never  been  thrown 


A  MAN  KEEPS  HIS  WORD  125 

out  into  the  current  of  life  where  it  ran  strongest. 
More  than  ever  she  made  him  think  of  the  girl  of 
olden  times,  the  girl  hard  to  find  in  our  modern  world. 
All  of  her  life  she  had  had  others  to  turn  to,  men 
whom  she  loved  to  lean  upon.  Her  father,  her 
brothers  would  have  done  everything  for  her;  she 
would  have  done  her  purely  feminine  part  in  making 
home  homey.  That  was  what  she  was  born  for,  the 
lot  of  the  sweet  tender  girl  who  is  quite  content  to 
let  other  girls  wear  mannish  clothing  and  do  mannish 
work.  Kendric  knew  instinctively  that  Betty  Gordon 
could  have  made  the  daintiest  thing  imaginable  in 
dresses,  that  she  would  tirelessly  and  cheerfully  nurse 
a  sick  man,  that  she  would  fight  every  inch  of  the 
way  for  his  life,  that  she  would  stand  by  a  father 
driven  to  tire  wall,  broken  financially,  that  she  would 
put  hope  into  him  and  bear  up  bravely  and  with  a 
tender  smile  under  adversity — but  that  she  would  call 
to  a  man  to  kill  a  spider  for  her.  God  had  not 
fashioned  her  to  direct  a  military  campaign.  And 
thinking  thus  of  her,  he  thought  also  of  Zoraida. 
Betty  Gordon,  just  as  she  was,  was  infinitely  more 
to  his  liking. 

?I  can  only  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  my  dear," 
he  said  gently,  and  again  he  felt  as  though  he  were 
addressing  a  poor  little  kid  of  a  girl  in  short  dresses, 
"that  I  wouldn't  harm  a  hair  of  your  head  for  all 
Mexico." 

Betty,  though  this  was  her  first  rude  experience  with 
outlaws,  was  not  without  both  discernment  and  intui- 
tion. Perhaps  the  maid  Rosita  had  lied  to  her,  car- 
ried away  by  a  natural  relish  in  telling  all  that  she 
knew  and  more.  A  look  of  brightening  hope  surged 
up  in  Betty's  gray  eyes;  her  pretty  lips  were  parting 


326  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

when  a  rude  interruption  made  her  forget  to  say  the 
words  which  were  just  forming. 

Fitfully  voices  had  come  to  them  from  the  patio 
where  Ruiz  Rios  and  the  rebel  captain  were  arguing, 
but  Jim  and  Betty  with  their  own  problem  occupying 
their  minds  had  paid  scant  attention.  Now  a  sudden 
exclamation  arrested  both  words  and  thought,  a  sharp 
cry  of  bitter  anger  and  more  than  anger;  there  was 
rage  and  menace  in  the  intonation.  And  then  came 
the  shot,  a  revolver  no  doubt  but  sounding  louder  as 
it  echoed  through  the  rooms.  Betty  started  up  in 
terror,  both  hands  grasping  Kendric' s  arm.  His  own 
hand  had  gone  its  swift  way  to  the  gun  slung  under 
his  coat 

They  waited  a  moment,  both  tense.  Then  Jim 
patted  her  hand  reassuringly,  removed  it  from  his 
sleeve  and  said  quietly: 

"Wait  a  second.     I'll  see  which  one  it  was." 

But  before  he  could  cross  the  room  the  door  was 
thrown  open  and  Ruiz  Rios  stood  looking  in  on  them 
queerly. 

"Sefior  Escobar  has  shot  himself,"  he  said. 
'Through  the  heart." 

Betty  fell  back  from  him,  step  by  step,  her  eyes 
staring,  her  face  white.  Then  she  looked  pleadingly 
to  Kendric,  When  he  went  to  her  side,  she  whis- 
pered : 

"Take  me  away !     Let's  try  to  go  now.     Now !" 

Ruiz  Rios's  eyes  glittered,  his  mouth  hardened.  He 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  watching  them  keenly. 

"It  is  in  my  mind  to  do  you  a  kindness,  Sefior 
Kendric,"  he  said,  speaking  evenly  and  emotionlessly. 

"You  are  a  murderous  cur,"  rapped  out  Kendric. 
"I'd  do  a  clean  job  if  I  shot  you  dead  in  your  tracks." 

Rios  smiled. 


A  MAN  KEEPS  HIS  WORD  127 

"Let  us  speak  business,  amigo"  he  said.  "Moraliz- 
ing is  nice  when  there  is  plenty  of  time  and  nothing 
else  to  be  done.  You  are  kept  here  against  your  will. 
It  might  not  fit  in  ill  with  my  plans  to  see  you  go." 

"I  will  have  a  look  at  Escobar  first,"  said  Kendric. 

Rios  stepped  aside  and  again  threw  open  the  door. 
But  he  did  not  stir  from  the  spot,  awaiting  Kendric' s 
return.  Nor  did  Kendric  tarry  long.  Escobar  was 
dead  already,  shot  through  the  heart,  as  Rios  had 
said.  A  revolver  lay  on  the  ground,  close  to  his 
right  hand. 

"You  ought  to  hang  for  that/'  said  Kendric  as  he 
came  back  into  the  room.  "But  from  the  way  you're 
going  you  won't  last  long  enough  for  the  law  to 
get  you.  Now,  what  have  you  to  say  to  me?" 

"A  part  I  have  said,"  returned  Ruiz  Rios.  "I  can 
guess  much  that  my  fair  cousin  has  said  to  you.  I 
know  her  desires  and — I  know  my  own!"  His  eyes 
flashed.  "More,  you  appear  interested  in  the  charm- 
ing Miss  Betty  Gordon.  If  you  would  like  to  go 
yourself,  if  you  would  like  to  take  her  with  you,  I 
think  I  can  arrange  matters.  At  a  price,  of  course." 

"Naturally.     And  the  price  ?" 

"Escobar  asked  twenty-five  thousand  dollars. 
Surely  she  is  worth  that  and  more?  Ah!  Well,  what 
you  came  to  Lower  California  to  find  may  be  worth 
as  much,  may  be  worth  nothing.  The  risk  is  mine. 
Tell  me  where  the  place  is  and  I  will  arrange  that 
you  and  Miss  Betty  have  horses  and  an  open  trail." 

"Rios,"  began  Jim,  speaking  slowly. 

But  it  was  Betty  who  answered. 

"No!"  she  cried.  "No  and  no  and  no!  You  are 
a  terrible  man,  Sefior  Rios,  and  some  day  God  will 
bring  you  to  a  terrible  end.  Be  sure  I  would  be 
happy  to  see  the  last  of  you  and  your  cousin  and 


128  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

your  kind  But  the  thing  you  ask  is  impossible. 
Why  should  Jim  Kendric,  to  whom  I  am  only  a  bother- 
some stranger,  pay  you  a  sum  like  that — for  me  ?  You 
are  crazy!" 

Jim  himself  was  perplexed.  He  had  no  desire  to 
put  Ruiz  Rios  in  the  way  of  appropriating  that  which 
had  brought  both  himself  and  Barlow  here.  More 
than  that,  the  secret  was  not  solely  his  to  give  away, 
were  he  so  minded.  Barlow  had  a  claim  to  half  and 
he  knew  there  would  be  nothing  left  for  Barlow  once 
Rios  scented  it.  Of  these  matters  he  thought  and  also 
of  Betty.  Her  quick  vehemence  had  surprised  him. 
Until  now  he  would  have  thought  her  eager  to  con- 
sent to  anything  to  insure  her  immediate  departure. 

"Fine  words,  senorita,"  said  Rios,  his  lips  twitching 
so  that  the  white  teeth  showed.  "But  you  had  best 
think.  Many  things  might  happen  to  a  girl,  a  pretty 
girl  like  you,  which  are  not  pleasant  for  her  to  experi- 
ence. You  had  better  throw  your  arms  about  your 
countryman's  neck  and  beg  him  to  pay  the  price  for 
you." 

Betty  shook  her  head  violently,  so  violently  that  the 
white  flower  fell  from  her  hair.  Rios  was  going  on 
angrily,  when  there  came  into  the  yard  a  clatter  of 
hoofs, 

"It  is  Zoraida,"  he  said  sharply,  "Now  be  quick; 
is  it  yes  or  no!* 

"No!"  cried  Betty. 

"Little  fool!"  muttered  Rios.  Under  his  glare  she 
drew  back.  "Before  again  such  help  is  offered  you 
you  will  wish  you  were  dead !" 

Outside  they  heard  Zoraida's  laughter,  low  and 
rich  with  its  music.  Then  her  voice  as  gay  as  though 
there  were  in  all  the  world  no  such  shadows  as  those 
cast  by  destruction  and  death.  And  then  she  entered, 


A  MAN  KEEPS  HIS  WORD  129 

slender  and  graceful  in  her  elaborate  riding  suit,  her 
white  plume  nodding,  her  eyes  dancing,  her  red  mouth 
triumphant.  Behind  her  came  Bruce  West. 

Kendric  stared  at  him  in  amazement.  For  Bruce 
came  of  his  own  free  will  and  his  own  eyes  were 
shining.  There  was  no  sign  of  his  recent  distress  upon 
his  face.  Rather  it  looked  more  joyous,  more  boyish 
and  glad  than  Kendric  had  seen  it  for  years.  The 
boy  hardly  noted  anyone  in  the  room  but  Zoraida.  His 
eyes  were  for  her  alone  and  they  were  on  fire  with 
adoration. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IN  WHICH  THERE  IS  MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  TOLD  AND 
THE   TRUTH    IS   GLIMPSED 

"You!"  cried  Kendric  in  amazement  as  his  look 
went  swiftly  from  Bruce's  radiant  face  to  Zoraida's 
and  back  to  Bruce.  "With  her!" 

Young  Bruce  West  advanced  eagerly. 

"It's  been  a  mistake,  Jim,"  he  said  earnestly.  "A 
cursed  mistake  all  along  the  line.  When  I  explain 
to  you 

"Boy,"  cut  in  Kendric  sternly,  "where*  s  your  head? 
Don't  you  know  that  she  was  one  of  the  crowd  raiding 
you?  Have  you  forgotten  all  I  told  you?" 

Zoraida,  head  held  high,  her  cheeks  flushed,  stood 
eyeing  him  defiantly.  The  mockery  of  her  look  dis- 
turbed him;  she  appeared  fully  confident  of  herself, 
her  destiny  and  her  place  in  Bruce's  estimation.  Bruce 
himself  frowned  and  shook  his  head. 

"You've  always  been  a  fair  man,  Jim,"  he  said. 
"Suspend  judgment  until  we've  talked." 

While  Kendric  held  his  tongue  and  pondered  angrily, 
Zoraida's  eyes  flashed  about  the  room.  Only  for  an 
instant  did  they  tarry  with  Betty  who,  drawn  away 
from  her  almost  to  the  table  against  the  wall,  looked 
back  at  her  with  unhidden  distrust.  Longer  did  they 
hold  to  Ruiz  Rios. 

"My  cousin,"  she  said  softly,  "you  have  something 
to  say  to  me.  What  is  it?" 

130 


MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  131 

"Not  here,  senorita,"  urged  Rios.  "In  another 
room." 

Kendric,  but  not  Bruce,  saw  the  deeply  significant 
regard  she  shot  at  Rios.  Her  answer  puzzled 
Kendric  for  the  moment,  not  so  much  the  words  as 
the  tone.  She  spoke  to  Rios  as  one  might  speak  to 
a  dreaded  master. 

"I  am  ready,"  was  all  that  she  said.  And  when 
Rios  threw  open  the  door  for  her,  it  was  to  Bruce  that 
she  said  gently,  her  eyes  melting  into  his,  "A  moment 
only,  if  Senor  Rios  will  permit  that  I  return  so  soon." 
And  she  went  out,  Rios  at  her  heels. 

"Can't  you  see,  Jim?"  Bruce  was  all  excitement  and 
his  hands  were  clenched  at  his  side;  his  boyish  eyes 
blazed.  "It's  that  damned  Ruiz  Rios!  He  dictates 
to  her;  he  has  put  the  fear  of  death  and  worse  into 
her  heart  She  is  made  to  suffer  for  all  of  his  crimes !" 

"So  that's  the  story?"  Kendric  grunted  his  disgust. 
"And  you've  let  her  stuff  you  hide-full  of  lies?" 

"Go  easy,  Jim."  Bruce  appeared  sincerely  pained 
and  troubled.  "I've  called  you  a  fair  man ;  won't  you 
open  your  mind  to  the  truth?  She  has  been  misrep- 
resented, I  know.  Her  enemies "  He  clenched 

his  hands.  "She  is  a  wonderful  creature!"  he  burst 
out.  "And  she  has  honored  me  with  her  confidence 
and  her  friendship." 

This  very  night  Zoraida  Castelmar  had  ruthlessly 
pillaged  Bruce's  ranch  and  from  Bruce's  mouth  now 
gushed  the  words :  "She  has  honored  me  with  her  con- 
fidence and  her  friendship!"  Was  there  no  end  to  the 
woman's  audacity?  Was  there  no  end  to  the  blind 
stupidity  of  mankind  which  permitted  of  lawlessness 
like  tonight's  being  glossed  over,  which  went  to  the 
insane  extreme  of  worshiping  when  normally  the  log- 


132  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

ical  emotion  would  be  hatred?  Was  there  finally, 
no  end  to  the  power  of  Zoraida? 

What  had  happened  between  Bruce  West  and 
Zoraida?  Kendric  knew  something  of  Zoraida's 
bravado,  no  little  of  her  supreme  assurance,  much  of 
her  methods.  Plainly  she  had  gone  straight  to  Bruce 
after  the  raid.  He  could  see  the  picture  of  her  com- 
ing out  of  the  lurid  night  and  into  the  experience  of 
a  boy  all  unnerved  by  his  anger  and  grief.  He  could 
understand  how  she  offered  her  softened  beauty  to 
the  hard  eyes;  how  her  voice  had  caressed  and  dis- 
torted fact;  how  Zoraida  had  had  the  wit  to  tell  her 
own  story,  make  her  own  impression,  before  Bruce 
could  have  had  time  to  steel  himself  against  her.  But 
what  tale  could  she  have  told  to  convince  a  man  like 
Bruce  who,  at  the  least,  was  not  a  fool? 

Somehow,  decided  Kendric,  she  had  lied  out  of  the 
whole  thing.  Further,  she  had  used  every  siren  trick 
she  knew  to  drug  his  better  judgment  She  had  been 
tender  and  feminine  and  seductive.  While  with  one 
hand  she  had  robbed  him,  she  had  caressed  him  with 
the  other.  And  not  too  boldly;  she  had  not  overdone 
it.  She  probably  wept  for  him;  she  treated  him  to 
the  flash  of  her  eyes  through  spurious  tears.  She  em* 
ployed  her  beauty  like  a  lure  and  had  little  trouble  in 
putting  the  boy's  suspicions  to  sleep.  What  chance 
would  a  simple,  open-hearted  fellow  like  Bruce  have 
against  the  wiles  which  were  Zoraida'3  stock  in  trade? 
Kendric  recalled  yividly  that  subtle  influence  which 
Zoraida  had  cast  even  upon  him;  which  he  had  felt 
even  when  steeled  against  her,  and  asked  himself  again 
what  chance  Bruce  could  have  with  her  in  the  hour 
of  her  boldest  triumph?  The  very  fact  of  her  hav- 
ing come  immediately  on  the  heels  of  the  catastrophe 
gave  her  a  look  of  innocence.  .  .  ,  Ha4  Zoraida  the 


MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  133 

trick  of  hypnosis  over  men?     It  began  to  look  like  it. 

"Poor  old  Baby-blue-eyes,"  muttered  Jim.  He 
looked  at  the  boy  wonderingly.  Then  only  did  it 
occur  to  him  that  Bruce  and  Betty  Gordon  were 
strangers  to  each  other  and  that  Bruce,  when  his 
sanity  should  return  to  him,  would  make  a  desirable 
friend  for  Betty.  So  he  said,  turning  toward  the 
girl:  "Miss  Gordon,  this  is  an  old  friend  of  mine; 
another  American,  too,  Bruce  West." 

Betty  looked  her  frank  interest  upon  Bruce  and 
her  speculation  was  obvious :  among  so  many  men 
whom  she  feared  and  distrusted  she  wondered  if  here 
was  one  of  whom  any  girl  might  be  sure.  She  put 
out  her  hand,  even  smiled.  But  Bruce  held  stiffly  back, 
his  eyes  full  of  accusing  light. 

"I  have  heard  of  Miss  Gordon,"  he  said  coolly. 
"She  is  also  known  as  Pansy  Blossom,  I  believe,  over 
in  Sonora." 

Kendrick  failed  to  understand  and  looked  to  Betty. 
Her  eyes  widened.  Then  her  cheeks  crimsoned. 

"Oh !"  she  gasped.  "Mr.  West,  what  do  you  mean? 
I  have  heard  of  her,  everyone  has.  She  is  the  most 
terrible  creature !"  She  shuddered.  "What  made  you 
say  that?" 

Bruce  laughed  his  disbelief  of  her  words  and  atti- 
tude. 

"Jim,  here,  doesn't  seem  to  remember,"  he  said 
brusquely.  "If  you'd  been  down  in  Sonora  lately,  Jim, 
you'd  know  all  about  Pansy  Blossom.  She  sings 
rather  well,  I  hear,  and  dances.  It  would  seem  that 
she  has  the  makings  of  a  highly  successful  actress," 
he  concluded  meaningly.  Kendric  stared  at  him. 

"You  mean  that  Betty  Gordon  here  is  some  sort 
of  an  adventuress?"  he  demanded. 

For   answer   Bruce   shrugged   elaborately  and   re- 


I34  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

turned  Kendric's  stare.  Jim  looked  to  Betty  again. 
Her  face  was  stamped  in  the  image  of  shocked  amaze- 
ment, she  scarcely  breathed  through  her  slightly  parted 
lips. 

"You're  talking  nonsense,  Bruce,"  Jim  said  em- 
phatically. "Sheer  rot.  She's  just  Betty  Gordon  and 
in  a  peck  of  trouble.  It's  up  to  you  and  me,  being 
countrymen  of  hers,  to  see  her  through  instead  of 
hurting  her  feelings." 

Bruce  regarded  him  somberly. 

"Old  Headlong,"  he  said  slowly,  "you're  just  the 
man  to  mistake  a  woman.  You've  judged  Zoraida 
Castelmar  wrong;  you're  making  a  mistake  with  Miss 
Pansy  Blossom." 

"You  fool!"  cried  Jim  angrily.  "Where  the  devil 
have  your  wits  gone?  You  call  this  child  an  adven- 
turess? Why,  man  alive,  can't  you  see  she's  just  a 
baby?" 

"Pansy  Blossom's  record "  began  Bruce. 

"Deuce  take  Pansy  Blossom!  We're  talking  about 
Betty  Gordon,  this  poor  little  lost  kid  here.  Who 
told  you  that  she  was  the  same  as  that  dancing 
woman?"  Bruce  made  no  answer.  "Was  it  Zoraida 
Castelmar?"  demanded  Kendric.  "Tell  me.  Is  that 
what  Zoraida  Castelmar  had  to  say  about  her?" 

"Well?"  challenged  Bruce.     "Suppose  it  was?" 

"What  else  did  she  tell  you?"  Jim  had  him  by  the 
arm  now  and  his  eyes  were  blazing.  "Spit  it  out,  boy. 
What  other  rot?" 

"It's  not  rot,  Jim.  If  you'll  keep  your  eyes  open 
and  think  a  little  you'll  know  as  much  as  I  know." 
Kendric  groaned.  "There's  a  game  on  foot  that  has 
a  bad  look  to  it.  Escobar  is  in  it  and  Rios  and — your 
young  lady  friend.  If  you'll  give  me  a  few  minutes 
presently,  I'll  explain." 


MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  135 

"Escobar  and  Betty  Gordon !  Why,  there's  nothing 
between  them  but  fear  and  hatred.  Or  rather  that's 
all  there  was;  Escobar's  lying  dead  out  there  now. 
Ruiz  Rios  plugged  him  square  through  the  heart  just 
now.  And  now  he's  taking  your  lady  friend  out  to 
tell  her  ^about  it !  Betty  is  their  captive,  held  for 
ransom,  as  I  told  you." 

"Or  appears  to  be  ?"  Bruce  jerked  his  arm  away  and 
began  moving  restlessly  up  and  down,  looking  always 
toward  the  door  through  which  Zoraida  had  gone. 
Kendric  turned  toward  Betty.  She  had  not  stirred; 
her  cheeks  were  still  burning.  Apparently  she  had 
heard  a  very  great  deal  of  unsavory  report  of  the  lady 
Bruce  mistook  her  for.  Only  the  expression  in  her 
eyes  and  about  her  lips  had  changed ;  now  it  was  one 
of  passionate  anger.  The  look  surprised  him.  He 
began  to  think  of  Betty  in  altered  terms.  She  wasn't 
just  the  baby  he  had  named  her  and  she  wasn't  just 
the  little  kid  of  sixteen  he  had  at  first  taken  her  to 
be.  During  the  interview  with  Ruiz  Rios  he  had 
learned  that  she  had  a  mind  of  her  own.  To  her 
other  possessions  he  now  saw  added  an  American 
girl's  fiery  temper. 

Then  Zoraida  and  Rios  returned.  Before  a  word 
was  spoken  Kendric  knew  that  he  was  to  be  treated 
to  some  more  play-acting.  Zoraida  had  elected  to  look 
frightened  and  uncertain;  the  glance  she  cast  toward 
her  cousin  spoke  of  terror  as  well  as  loathing.  Rios 
glared  and  looked  important.  Swiftly  Zoraida  crossed 
the  room,  her  be  jeweled  fingers  finding  Bruce  West's 
arm. 

"My  friend,"  she  whispered  so  that  they  could  all 
hear.  "I  don't  know  which  way  to  turn.  A  man 
has  killed  himself — -the  Captain  Escobar.  Or  so  Ruiz 
Rios  says.  And  I "  She  broke  off,  shuddering. 


136  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

And  then,  bewildering  Jim  Kendric  if  no  one  else,  two 
big  tears  gathered  in  her  eyes  and  spilled  down  to  her 
cheeks ! 

"Sefiores  Kendric  and  West,"  announced  Rios  auto- 
cratically, "you  will  take  all  orders  from  me  now. 
You  will  not  leave  the  house,  either  of  you,  unless  I 
give  the  word.  Sefiorita  Zoraida,  you  will  go  to  your 
room  and  wait  until  I  send  for  you.  Senorita  Pansy," 
and  suddenly  his  teeth  showed  in  his  quick  smile,  "a 
word  with  you  please  in  the  patio  f" 

"My  cousin,"  said  Zoraida,  all  soft  supplication 
now,  her  two  hands  held  out  toward  Rios,  "it  is  only 
a  little  thing  I  beg  of  you.  May  I  have  a  few  words 
with  Senor  West?" 

"Go  to  your  room,"  answered  Rios  shortly.  "Sefior 
West  remains  with  us.  You  may  see  him  later." 

Zoraida  looked  lingeringly  at  Bruce,  shook  her  head 
sorrowfully  as  he  appeared  to  be  gathering  himself 
to  spring  at  the  man  who  terrorized  her,  murmured 
gently,  "Wait — for  my  sake,  senor!"  and  went  out  of 
the  room.  Out  of  the  corners  of  her  oblique  eyes, 
when  her  back  was  to  Bruce,  she  mocked  Jim  Kendric. 

Rios  held  the  door  open  for  Betty. 

"Will  you  come  to  the  patio  with  me,  sefiorita?" 
he  asked. 

"No !"  cried  Betty.     "You  terrible  man.     No." 

Rios,  though  not  the  actor  Zoraida  was,  managed  to 
appear  startled  that  she  should  speak  so.  Then,  as  he 
looked  from  her  to  Jim  and  Bruce,  he  smiled  as  though 
in  comprehension. 

"There  is  no  need  to  pretend  further,  Sefiorita 
Pansy,"  he  said.  "They  know." 

"There  is  a  great  deal  we  know,  Ruiz  Rios,"  broke 
out  Bruce.  "You  hold  the  upper  hand  just  now  but 
there's  a  new  deal  coming!" 


MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  137 

"Will  you  come,  Sefiorita  Pansy?*'  Rios  grew 
truculent.  "Or  shall  I  call  for  a  dozen  men  to  escort 
you?" 

"Rios,"  snapped  Kendric,  "I'm  getting  damned  tired 
of  this  foolishness.  Betty  Gordon  is  a  friend  of  mine 
and  I'm  going  to  see  her  through.  She  goes  nowhere 
she  does  not  want  to.  If  you  want  to  take  me  on, 
I'm  ready  for  you.  Ready  and  waiting!" 

"No,"  said  Betty  again.  "Mr.  Kendric,  I  will  go 
with  him  as  far  as  the  patio."  She  took  a  step  for- 
ward, then  whipped  back  at  a  sudden  thought.  "He 
is  lying  out  there — dead!"  she  whispered. 

"The  unfortunate  Captain  Escobar,"  Rios  told  her 
equably,  "has  been  removed  to  another  part  of  the 
house.  And,  if  you  like,  we  will  speak  together  in 
the  dining-room." 

Betty  came  to  Jim  Kendric  then.  She  looked  up 
into  his  eyes  and  said  gently: 

"I  do  trust  you.  You  are  the  only  one  I  trust.  I 
can  look  to  no  one  else.  If  I  want  you  I  will  call. 
And  you  will  come  to  me,  won't  you?" 

"Come  to  you?  Why,  bless  your  heart,  I'd  come 
running!" 

So  Betty  and  Rios  went  out  and  for  a  little  while 
Jim  and  Bruce  were  left  alone, 

"Bruce,  old  man,"  said  Kendric,  "let's  come  down 
to  earth.  Put  your  sentimental  heart  in  your  pocket 
and  use  your  brains  a  while.  You  know  me  well 
enough  to  know  that  I  won't  lie  tq  you.  Will  you 
listen  to  me?" 

"Yes.  But  tell  me  only  what  you  know,  not  what 
you  surmise.  What  do  you  know  against  Zoraida 
Castelmar?" 

"I  know  she  is  an  adventuress,  playing  for  big 


138  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

stakes,  stakes  so  big  that  in  the  end  they  are  bound 
to  crush  her." 

"Speculation,  old  chap."  Bruce  smiled  faintly. 
"Keep  away  from  doping  out  the  future  and  stick  to 
facts." 

"So  you  want  facts?  All  right:  She  is  planning 
a  revolution;  she  has  the  mad  idea  that  she  can  rip 
Lower  California  away  from  the  government  and 
make  of  it  a  separate  empire,  herself  its  queen!" 

"Why  not?  Wilder  things  have  been  done.  And 
where  would  you  find  a  more  likely  queen?" 

"When  I  first  saw  her  she  came,  disguised  as  a 
man,  into  Ortega's  gaming  hell,  Rios  with  her.  She 
played  dice  with  me  for  twenty  thousand  dollars." 

Bruce's  eye  brightened. 

"She's  wonderful!"  he  said  eagerly. 

"She's  hand  and  fist  with  Rios  and  Escobar  and  a 
lot  of  other  riff-raff  I  don't  know.  She  is  instru- 
mental in  Betty  Gordon's  being  held  for  ransom " 

"How  do  you  know?  Or  are  you  just  guessing 
again?  Betty  Gordon!  How  do  you  know  she  isn't 
what  I  called  her,  the  infamous  dancing  woman  with 
an  evil  record  a  mile  long?" 

"Haven't  I  talked  with  her?"  Kendric  grew  im- 
patient. "Haven't  I  seen  her  terror?  Haven't  I 
looked  into  her  eyes?" 

"Haven't  I  talked  with  Zoraida?"  countered  Bruce. 
"Haven't  I  heard  her  explanations?  Haven't  I  seen 
her  terror  of  Rios  ?  Haven't  I  looked  into  her  eyes  ?" 

"You  were  burned  out  tonight.  Have  you  forgot- 
ten that  ?  Your  herds  were  raided.  Even  old  Twisty 
Barlow,  once  a  square  man,  followed  Zoraida  Castel- 
mar  into  that!  And  Zoraida,  herself,  was  one  of 
the  raiders!" 

"How    do    you    know?"    demanded    Bruce.     And 


MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  139 

always  he  laid  significant  stress  on  the  word  of  cer- 
tainty. 

"I  saw  the  horse  she  rode.  I  heard  the  whistle 
which  she  wears  on  a  chain  about  her  throat.  I  even 
saw  the  white  plume  in  her  hat." 

"Is  there  only  one  white  horse  in  Mexico?  And 
only  one  whistle  ?  And  only  one  white  plume  ?  These 
things,  if  it  had  been  Zoraida,  she  would  have  left 
behind.  In  the  dark  you  guessed.  I  am  afraid  you 
have  guessed  all  along  the  line/' 

"Then  tell  me  how  the  devil  it  came  about  that 
Zoraida  showed  up  at  your  place  ?  A  pretty  tall  coin- 
cidence." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind.  The  whole  thing  was  en- 
gineered by  Rios.  She  overheard  a  little,  guessed  it 
all.  Dangerous  though  the  effort  was,  she  tried  to 
be  in  time  to  warn  me.  She  came  just  too  late." 

Kendric  stared  at  his  friend  incredulously.  First 
Barlow,  then  young  Bruce  West  drawn  from  his  side 
and  to  Zoraida's.  She  required  men,  men  of  his 
stamp.  And  she  seemed  to  have  the  way  of  drawing 
them  to  her.  He  felt  utterly  baffled ;  he  could  at  the 
moment  think  of  no  argument  which  Bruce's  infatua- 
tion would  not  thrust  aside.  Where  he  would  depict 
a  heartless,  ambitious  adventuress  Bruce  would  see  a 
glorified  and  heroic  superwoman. 

Rios  came  to  the  door. 

"Senor  West/'  he  said  as  they  turned  expectantly 
toward  him,  "Sefiorita  Zoraida  implores  so  eloquently 
for  word  with  you  that  I  have  consented.  If  you  will 
step  this  way  she  will  come  to  you." 

Bruce  required  no  second  invitation.  With  Rios's 
words  he  forgot  Kendric's  arguments  and  Kendric's 
very  presence.  He  went  out,  his  step  eager.  Before 
Rios  followed  him  Kendric  called : 


140  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Where  is  Miss  Gordon?' 

"Gone  to  her  room,  senor.  If  you  will  look  at  your 
watch  you  will  note  that  it  is  time." 

It  was  well  after  midnight  and  Kendric  thought 
that  for  all  the  good  he  could  do,  he,  too,  might  as  well 
go  to  bed.  But  he  was  too  stubborn  a  man  to  give 
up  his  friend  so  easily  and  he  hoped  that  since  Bruce 
was  not  a  fool  he  would  come  in  time  to  see  the  real 
Zoraida  under  the  mask  she  had  donned  for  his  benefit. 
So  he  waited,  walking  up  and  down. 

Zoraida  entered  so  quietly  that  she  was  in  the  room 
and  the  door  shut  after  her  before  he  felt  her  presence. 

"Bruce  has  gone  out  that  way,  looking  for  you," 
he  said 

"I  can  see  him  presently,"  she  answered  lightly.  "I 
think  he  will  wait,  don't  you?" 

"I  fancy  he  will,"  he  returned  bitterly.  "What  do 
you  want  with  the  boy,  Zoraida?  What  has  he  done 
to  you  that  you  should  ruin  him,  first  financially  and 
then  every  other  way  ?  Aren't  you  afraid  of  what  you 
are  building  up  for  yourself?  Men  like  Barlow  and 
Bruce  West  may  let  you  sing  their  souls  to  sleep  for 
a  little;  look  out  when  they  wake  up!" 

She  laughed  softly. 

"I  think  that  all  along  you  have  doubted  my  power," 
she  said,  her  eyes  steady  on  his.  "Are  you  beginning 
to  see  that  Zoraida  Castelmar  is  a  girl  to  reckon  with? 
You  have  said  that  the  great  things  I  attempt  are 
beyond  me ;  have  I  failed  in  anything  I  have  tried  ?" 

"To  infatuate  a  man  is  not  the  same  thing  as  to 
build  a  state!" 

"And  yet  infatuated  men  make  obedient  lieutenants." 

They  grew  silent.  In  each  there  was  much  which 
was  of  its  nature  incomprehensible  to  the  other  and 
which,  of  necessity,  must  remain  so.  Slowly  there 


MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  141 

came  a  different  look  upon  the  girl's  face.  Her  eyes 
softened  and  were  more  wistful  that  he  had  ever 
thought  they  could  be.  Her  breast  rose  and  fell  in 
a  profound  sigh.  All  of  the  triumph  and  mockery 
went  out  of  her. 

"Why  are  you  so  unlike  other  men?"  she  asked. 
And  her  voice,  too,  had  softened  and  grown  tender. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  he  asked. 

"Escobar  hated  me  but  he  would  have  followed  me 
through  fire  had  I  beckoned.  You  have  seen  the  look 
in  your  friend  Barlow's  eyes  when  he  turns  to  me, 
and  this  after  only  a  few  days,  a  few  smiles!  You 
glimpsed  just  now  the  love  that  has  sprung  up  in 
Bruce  West's  heart  like  a  flower  full  blown.  There 
have  been  many,  many  men,  my  friend,  who  have 
looked  upon  Zoraida  Castelmar  as  they  look.  Until 
you  came  there  has  been  no  man  who  turned  his  head 
away."  Again  she  sighed  unhiddenly.  Her  eyes 
melted  into  his,  yearning,  promising,  beseeching. 
"And  to  you  I  have  offered  what  would  have  made  any 
other  man  mad  with  joy." 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  and  it  seemed  impossible 
that  they  could  speak  shameless  lies.  For  the  moment 
at  least  she  had  the  appearance  of  a  young  girl  with- 
out sophistication,  without  the  skill  to  hide  her 
thoughts.  Her  eyes  seemed  unusually  large,  wide 
open  frankly,  as  innocent  as  spring  violets.  Was 
she  always  like  this — was  this  the  real,  true  Zoraida — 
He  felt  her  influence  upon  him,  pervading  his  senses 
like  heavy  perfume,  and  spoke  hurriedly. 

"You  and  I  are  different  sorts  of  people,"  he  an- 
swered. "Our  ideas  as  well  as  our  ideals  are  of  dif- 
ferent orders." 

"And  what  if  I  altered  ?"  whispered  Zoraida,  coming 
closer  to  him.  "What  if  I  discarded  all  of  my  ideas 


142  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

and  ideals.  Yes,  and  my  ambitions  with  them! 
What  then,  Senor  Jim  Kendric?" 

He  shook  his  head  and  moved  restlessly. 

"I  am  no  woman's  man,  you  know  that.  And  if  I 
were,  you  know  also  that  you  are  not  my  kind  of 


woman." 


And  still  no  passionate  outburst  came  from  Zoraida 
denied!  Rather  she  grew  more  deeply  meditative. 
Almost  she  seemed  saddened  and  weary. 

"Your  kind  of  woman,"  she  mused.  And  then,  in 
pure  jest,  "Like  Escobar's  captive?" 

For  some  obscure  reason  after  which  he  did  not 
grope  the  half  sneer  of  the  words  stung  Kendric  into 
a  sharp  retort. 

"By  heaven,  yes!"  he  cried.  "There's  the  sort  of 
girl  for  any  man  to  put  his  trust  in,  to  give  the  best 
that  is  in  him!" 

Zoraida  gasped.  Utter  amazement  filled  her  eyes. 
Then  came  incredulity:  she  would  not  believe.  But 
when  she  saw  the  seriousness  of  his  eyes,  her  passion 
burst  out  upon  him.  Her  two  hands  rose  and  clenched 
themselves  on  her  panting  breast,  her  eyes  lost  their 
shadow  of  amazement  and  grew  brilliant  with  anger. 

"That  little  baby-faced  doll!"  she  cried.  "She  has 
dared  make  eyes  at  you.  And  you,  blind  fool  that 
you  are,  have  turned  from  me  to  her!"  Her  voice 
shook,  her  whole  body  trembled  visibly,  then  stiffened. 
In  a  flash  all  girlish  softness  was  gone;  she  looked  as 
cold  and  cruel  as  steel.  "I  had  thought  to  let  her 
go  when  the  ransom  came.  Now  I  shall  have  other 
plans  for  her." 

Kendric  stared. 

"In  the  first  place,"  he  said  with  an  assumption  of 
carelessness,  "you  have  overshot  the  mark:  Betty 
Gordon  hasn't  made  eyes  at  me  at  all  and  I'm  not 


MORE  THAN  ONE  LIE  143 

in  love  with  her  and  have  no  intentions  of  being. 
Next,  I  fail  to  see  what  has  happened  that  would 
alter  your  plans  in  her  regard?'* 

Zoraida  laughed  her  disbelief. 

"Any  girl  in  her  place  would  make  eyes  at  you," 
she  retorted.  "And  as  for  my  plans,  perhaps  you  may 
be  allowed  to  watch  the  working  out  of  them !  Would 
you  enjoy,"  she  taunted  him,  "the  sight  of  Betty  Gor- 
don in  a  steel  cage  into  which  we  allowed  to  enter  a 
certain  pet  of  mine?" 

At  first  he  did  not  understand.  Then  he  stared  at 
her  speechlessly.  Words  of  Juanita,  spoken  fearfully 
that  morning,  recurred  to  him :  "She  would  give  me  to 
her  cat,  her  terrible,  terrible  cat,  to  play  with!"  He 
opened  his  mouth  to  lift  his  voice  in  hot  protest;  then 
he  bit  back  the  words,  savagely  calling  himself  a  fool 
for  the  mad  thought.  Even  to  Zoraida's  lawlessness 
there  must  be  a  limit ;  even  the  cold  cruelty  looking  out 
of  her  oblique  eyes  now  could  not  carry  her  so  far. 
And  yet  the  laugh  with  which  he  answered  her  was  a 
trifle  shaky. 

"We  are  talking  nonsense,"  he  said  abruptly.  "And 
Bruce  is  expecting  you.  When  you  finish  distorting 
facts  for  his  consumption  I'd  like  a  word  with  him." 

Zoraida's  face  went  white. 

"It  is  in  my  heart,"  she  said  in  a  dry  whisper,  "to 
give  orders  that  you  will  never  see  another  sun  rise!" 

"Give  your  orders  then,"  he  snapped.  "I'm  sick 
of  things  as  they  are.  Send  in  a  gang  of  your  cut- 
throats and  I'll  give  you  my  word  I'd  rather  fight  my 
way  through  them  than  stand  by  and  watch  you  poison 
honest  men's  souls." 

She  stepped  across  the  room  and  put  out  her  hand 
as  though  to  the  bell  on  the  table.  Kendric  watched 
her  sternly.  She  stopped  and  looked  at  him  wonder- 


144  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

ingly.  Suddenly  she  dropped  her  hand  to  her  side 
and  with  the  gesture  came  a  swift  alteration  in  her 
expression.  A  strange  smile  molded  her  lips,  an  in- 
scrutable look  dawned  in  the  dark  eyes. 

"I  knew  already  that  you  were  a  brave  man,  Jim 
Kendric,"  she  said.  "I  was  forgetting,  losing  all  dear 
thought  because  a  man  had  dismissed  me  from  his 
presence?  Well,  of  that,  more  another  time.  But 
brave  men  I  need,  brave  men  I  must  have  in  that 
which  comes  soon.  If  there  is  not  one  way,  then 
there  will  be  another  to  draw  you  to  my  side." 

She  was  going  out  but  stopped  as  they  heard  horses 
in  the  yard.  She  stood  still,  waiting.  Presently  there 
came  an  unsteady  step  at  the  front  door.  A  hand 
fumbled,  the  door  opened  and  Twisty  Barlow  entered. 
His  arm  was  in  a  sling,  a  bandage  bound  his  forehead, 
his  eyes  shone  feverishly.  He  stopped  on  the  thresh- 
old and  stared  at  them.  Kendric  spoke  quickly. 

"Twisty,"  he  said,  "do  you  know  who  shot  you?" 

Barlow  merely  shook  his  head. 

"I  did.  I  was  at  Bruce's.  I  did  not  know  you  but " 

"But  you'd  have  shot  just  the  same,  anyway?" 
grunted  Barlow. 

"You  got  yourself  into  damned  bad  company,  Bar- 
low. But  that's  your  affair.  Just  tell  me  one  thing: 
Was  it  not  at  Zoraida  Castelmar's  orders  that  you 
went?" 

Barlow's  look  shifted  for  an  instant  to  Zoraida's 
half  smiling  face.  But  his  hesitation  was  brief. 

"No,"  he  said  shortly. 

An  hour  later  Kendric  gave  up  waiting  for  Bruce 
and  went  off  to  his  bedroom.  On  his  table  were  two 
letters  in  their  envelopes.  They  were  the  letters  he 
and  Bruce  had  written,  telling  of  Betty  Gordon's 
captivity. 


CHAPTER   XII 

IN    WHICH    AN    OVERTURE    IS    MADE,    AN    ANSWER    IS 
POSTPONED  AND  A  DOOR  IS  LOCKED 

IN  his  bedroom  Jim  Kendric  sat  for  a  long  time 
pondering  that  night.  What  had  appeared  to  him  the 
simplest,  most  straight-away  errand  in  the  world  had 
brought  him  down  here,  just  the  time-honored  search 
for  treasure.  In  all  particulars  the  adventure  had 
seemed  the  usual  one,  two  men  undertaking  to  share 
whatever  lay  ahead,  expense,  danger  or  loot.  And 
through  no  fault  of  his  own  Kendric  saw  simplicity 
altered  into  complexity.  There  were  Barlow's  changed 
attitude,  the  desires  and  ambitions  of  Zoraida,  the 
absurdity  of  Bruce  West's  infatuation,  the  interference 
of  Ruiz  Rios  and  finally  the  situation  in  which  Betty 
Gordon  found  herself. 

"I  came  down  this  way  to  get  my  hands  on  buried 
treasure,  if  it  exists,"  Kendric  at  last  told  himself 
irritably;  "not  to  work  out  the  salvations  of  half 
the  souls  in  Mexico!  If  the  issue  becomes  complex 
it  is  because  I  am  getting  turned  away  from  the  main 
thing.  What  Barlow  and  Bruce  do  is  up  to  them; 
Barlow,  for  one,  ought  to  know  better,  and  Bruce 
has  got  to  cut  his  eye-teeth  sooner  or  later.  It's  up 
to  me  to  be  on  my  way." 

Which  did  not  entirely  dispose  of  all  matters,  since 
it  ignored  Zoraida  and  made  no  place  for  Betty.  The 
latter,  however,  he  did  not  bar  from  his  thoughts  or 
even  from  his  plannings:  If  she  said  the  word  and 

145 


146  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

would  take  the  chance  with  him,  he'd  find  the  way  to 
get  her  safely  out  of  this  house  of  intrigue.  He  was 
constitutionally  optimistic  enough  to  decide  that. 
Among  the  bushes  out  in  the  garden  a  rifle  was  hidden ; 
slung  under  his  left  arm  pit  was  a  dependable  friend ; 
and  in  his  heart  he  was  spoiling  for  a  row. 

Such  was  his  mood,  an  hour  after  he  had  gone  to 
his  room,  when  a  rap  discreetly  announced  a  soft- 
footed  somebody  at  his  door.  He  rose  eagerly,  think- 
ing it  would  be  Bruce  or  perhaps  Barlow.  But  when 
he  opened  the  door  it  was  Ruiz  Rios  who  slipped  noise- 
lessly into  the  room,  swiftly  closing  and  locking  the 
door  after  him. 

"Not  in  bed  yet,  my  friend?"  smiled  Rios.  "It  is 
well.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

Kendric  went  back  to  his  chair  from  which  he  eyed 
Rios  narrowly.  The  Mexican's  look  was  full  of  craft. 

"Let's  have  it,  Rios.     What  now?" 

"What  I  said  to  you  earlier  in  the  evening  came 
from  the  heart,"  said  Rios.  "That  without  my  help 
you  cannot  leave;  that  you  may  have  that  help.  For 
a  price." 

His  utterance  was  incisive;  his  voice,  eager  and 
quick,  filled  the  room.  Evidently  he  had  no  fear  of 
eavesdroppers.  Kendric  stared  at  him  curiously. 

"For  a  double-dealing  gentleman  you  have  consider- 
able assurance,"  he  grunted.  "You  don't  seem  to 
care  who  hears." 

Rios  waved  an  impatient  hand. 

"I  know  what  I  am  about,"  he  retorted.  "La 
Sefiorita  Zoraida  is  in  her  own  rooms  where  she  enter- 
tains one  of  your  friends  while  the  other  cools  his 
heels  in  her  anteroom.  I  have  assurance,  yes ;  because 
just  now  I  am  the  man  of  the  hour!  Your  destiny 
and  that  of  your  compatriot,  Miss  Betty,  as  well  as 


A  DOOR  IS  LOCKED  147 

the  destinies  of  your  two  friends  and  perchance  of  yet 
others,  lies  in  my  hand." 

"You  talk  big  when  Zoraida's  eyes  are  not  on  you," 
said  Kendric. 

Rios  stared  insolently,  then  shrugged  and  made  for 
himself  a  tiny  white  paper  cigarita. 

"I  talk  big  because  I  can,  as  you  say  north  of  the 
border,  'deliver  the  goods/  Do  you  wish  to  go  free?" 

"Since  you  ask  it,"  said  Kendric  drily,  "yes.  I've 
got  no  stomach  for  your  crowd  here." 

"And  you  would  like  to  take  with  you  the  pretty 
little  Betty?"  Rios's  eyes  were  full  of  insinuation. 
Kendric  felt  an  impulsive  desire  to  kick  him  but  for 
the  time  kept  his  head  and  witheld  his  boot. 

"Speak  on,  Senor  Man  of  the  Hour,"  he  jeered. 
"Somehow  I'm  not  particularly  sleepy  yet.  If  you've 
really  got  anything  to  say  let's  have  it." 

"It  is  this :  The  treasure  you  have  come  so  far  to 
find  will  never  be  yours.  Mine  it  may  be;  if  not 
mine,  then  Zoraida's.  On  my  honor  it  will  never  go 
into  your  hands  or  those  of  Barlow." 

"Your  honor,"  laughed  Kendric,  "fits  well  in  your 
mouth,  Ruiz  Rios,  but  rides  light  in  the  scales." 

"You  mean  you  would  want  proof?"  Rios  was  im- 
perturbable. "It  may  be  given  you  in  due  time,  but 
only  when  it  is  too  late  for  you  to  make  any  stock 
out  of  it.  Now,  for  what  you  know,  I  offer  you 
your  own  safety  and  that  of  Miss  Betty.  Have  I  not 
marked  how  you  look  at  her?"  He  laughed  in  his 
turn. 

"If  this  is  all  you  have  to  say,"  answered  Kendric, 
"suppose  you  shut  the  door  from  the  outside?" 

For  just  now,  while  he  had  thought  of  other  mat- 
ters, he  had  pondered  on  this  one  also.  Even  were  he 
disposed  to  treat  with  Rios,  the  secret  was  not  his  to 


I48  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

give.  Further,  once  Rios  had  the  knowledge  he 
sought,  he  would  no  doubt  fail  to  keep  his  word.  And 
in  any  case  there  was  always  the  possibility  of  getting 
away  without  the  Mexican's  aid;  and  if  there  was 
treasure,  as  Rios  so  plainly  believed,  it  should  be  worth 
many  times  the  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  which  had 
been  demanded  of  Betty's  father.  On  top  of  all  this 
it  was  sheer  nonsense  to  plan  on  what  Betty  might 
have  to  say  until  her  word  was  spoken.  Hence  Jim 
was  no  little  pleased  to  baffle  Rios. 

"You  are  thinking  of  yourself,"  said  Rios  sharply. 
"Not  of  the  girl.  Can  you  not  imagine  that  it  might 
be  unpleasant  for  her,  left  here  over  long?" 

Then  Kendric  sought  to  be  as  crafty  as  his  visitor. 

"Am  I  responsible  for  all  wandering  damsels  in 
distress?"  he  asked  coldly. 

"But  Miss  Betty " 

"Exactly.  What  the  devil  is  Miss  Betty  to  me?  I 
never  saw  her  until  a  few  hours  ago." 

"But,"  insisted  Rios,  "in  some  soils  some  flowers 
bloom  quickly !  Love  comes  when  it  comes,  in  a  year, 
in  a  day,  in  a  moment." 

"Love!"  Jim's  surprise  was  not  altogether  feigned. 
Then  he  laughed  and  remembered  his  craft  He  was 
thinking  that  already  Zoraida  suspected  him  of  being 
too  warmly  interested;  he  did  not  know  but  that  Rios 
was  here  now  on  Zoraida's  errand,  making  pretenses 
the  while  he  sought  to  ferret  out  real  emotions.  And 
so  for  Zoraida's  sake  should  the  words  be  carried  to 
her,  he  cried  as  though  in  high  amusement:  "Love? 
What  are  you  thinking  of,  man?" 

He  saw  that  he  had  puzzled  Rios.  The  Mexican 
had  been  convinced  of  his  keen  interest  in  the  girl  and, 
further,  knew  from  of  old  how  lightly  Jim  Kendric 
held  such  mere  bagatelles  as  dollars,  Kendric  drew 


A  DOOR  IS  LOCKED  149 

a  certain  satisfaction  from  the  situation.  But  his 
frank  grin  died  away  slowly  as  Rios  went  on. 

"We  are  not  friends,  you  and  I,  sefior,"  he  said 
smoothly.  "But  just  now  that  matters  not,  since  my 
personal  interests  move  me  to  do  you  a  kindness.  Of 
what  happens  to  you  later  on,  I  care  less  than  that." 
He  snapped  his  fingers.  "Perhaps  you  do  not  fully 
understand  either  your  own  case  or  that  of  Miss  Betty. 
You  are  to  be  held  here  indefinitely ;  unless  you  decide 
to  throw  your  lot  in  with  La  Senorita  Zoraida's  and 
become  her  man,  body  and  soul,  there  will  come  a 
time,  suddenly,  when  her  patience  will  die  and  her 
wrath  rise  and  you  will  die  too.  And  for  Miss  Betty 
— there  remains  always  the  puma." 

Rios  spoke  with  every  sign  of  sincerity.  Kendric, 
with  what  he  knew  of  Zoraida  to  guide  his  thoughts 
to  a  conclusion,  was  more  than  half  convinced  that 
the  man  was  telling  the  truth.  Rios  himself  was  not 
above  murder;  hardly  now  had  the  body  of  Escobar 
stiffened  when  he  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  rebel 
captain  and  the  deed  of  violence.  And  Zoraida  was 
Rios's  blood  cousin. 

"You  appear  to  be  sure  that  there  is  treasure?" 
Kendric  said. 

"Yes.  There  is  no  question."  Again  was  Rios  un- 
usually frank.  "I  could  lie  to  you  but  there  is  no 
need.  The  treasure  is  beyond  your  reach ;  it  may  fall 
to  my  hand.  Yes,  I  am  sure." 

"What  do  you  know  of  it?  What  makes  you  so 
confident  ?" 

Rios  smiled. 

"Again  there  is  no  need  to  lie  to  you.  You  have 
marked  that  my  cousin  is  a  very  rich  woman?  There 
is  no  richer  in  all  Mexico.  And  why  ?  Because  she  has 
long  been  in  possession  of  a  portion  of  the  hidden 


150  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

wealth  of  the  Montezumas.  A  portion,  mark  you. 
For  there  is  some  sign  which  she  has  understood  to 
tell  her  that  there  is  still  other  hidden  treasure.  Al- 
ways, since  she  was  a  little  girl,  has  she  looked  for  it, 
never  content  with  what  she  has.  And  if  I  come  first 
to  it — Think,  sefior!"  His  eyes  brightened,  a  flush 
warmed  his  dusky  skin,  he  lifted  his  head  arrogantly. 
"It  will  mean  that  I,  even  I,  can  dictate  in  some  things 
to  Zoraida!  It  will  mean  that  she  must  join  forces 
with  me.  It  will  mean  that  she  and  I  together  will  go 
far,  will  rise  high.  As  she  will  be  the  one  bright  star 
in  all  Mexico,  so  will  I  be  the  newly  risen  sun." 

"So,"  muttered  Kendric,  "you  two  are  tarred  with 
the  same  stick!" 

Now  Rios's  black  eyes  were  deadly. 

"What  you  know  means  everything  to  me,"  he  said, 
his  voice  at  last  sunk  to  a  harsh  whisper.  "I  killed 
Escobar  for  less.  Remember  that,  Sefior  Americano !" 

Kendric  ignored  the  threat. 

"What  of  my  friend?"  he  demanded.  "Even  were 
I  of  a  mind  to  talk  turkey  with  you,  there  is  Barlow. 
Half  is  his." 

"Barlow  is  touched  with  madness.  Have  I  not  told 
you  he  will  have  none  of  it?  You  have  eyes,  sefior. 
Already  my  fair  cousin  has  made  of  Barlow  a  tame 
animal  like  her  cat.  When  she  commands,  he  will 
speak.  Think  you  he  will  remember  in  that  dizzy 
moment  that  you  have  claims  to  be  safeguarded?  All 
will  go  to  Zoraida.  What  you  are  pleased  to  call  your 
share,  along  with  his  own." 

Jim  hated  to  believe  that.  And  yet  he  did  believe. 
Tonight  Barlow  had  looked  at  him  out  of  hard,  un- 
friendly eyes;  he,  himself,  had  shot  Barlow  out  of  a 
cattle  raider's  saddle. — Suddenly,  startling  Rios,  Ken- 
dric's  fist  came  smashing  down  on  his  table. 


A  DOOR  IS  LOCKED  151 

"Here  I've  just  been  deciding  the  whole  game  is 
simple  enough,"  he  cried,  "and  along  you  come  mess- 
ing it  all  up  again!  Clear  out  I'm  going  to  sleep/' 

"And  my  answer?" 

"Talk  to  me  tomorrow,  if  youVe  a  mind  to.  Most 
likely  I'll  tell  you  to  go  to  blazes,  but  that  can  be 
said  as  well  after  breakfast  as  now." 

Rios  accepted  his  dismissal  equably. 

"For  me  there  is  gold  at  stake,"  he  said,  going  out 
without  protest.  "For  you  there  is  your  life  and  Miss- 
Betty's.  I  can  afford  to  wait  as  well  as  you.  Buenos 
noches,  senor" 

"Go  to  the  devil,"  retorted  Kendric,  and  banged  the 
door  shut  after  him. 

Though  he  had  not  intimated  his  intention  to  his 
visitor,  Kendric,  holding  to  his  determination  to  sim- 
plify matters,  had  made  up  his  mind  to  have  a  talk 
with  Barlow  first  of  all.  Since  that  could  not  come 
until  tomorrow,  the  thing  now  was  to  go  to  bed.  He 
undressed  and  put  out  his  light.  Then  he  flipped  up 
his  window  shade.  Only  when  he  was  about  to  thrust 
his  head  out  of  the  open  window  to  inhale  the  fra- 
grant night  air  and  have  his  little  "look  around,"  did 
he  discover  the  bars  to  any  possible  escape  there;  a 
heavy  iron  grill  had  been  fastened  across  the  opening. 
Just  how  it  was  secured  he  could  not  tell  since  it  had 
been  set  in  place  from  outside  and  though  he  thrust 
his  hand  through  the  bars  he  could  not  reach  far 
enough  to  locate  the  staples  or  hooks  which  held  it 
in  place.  He  shook  it  tentatively ;  it  was  amply  solid. 

But  the  door  was  open  from  his  room  to  the  bath. 
He  groped  his  way  across  the  smaller  room  and  found 
the  knob  of  the  door  which  led  to  the  room  Barlow 
had  occupied  last  night.  That  door  was  locked.  As 


152  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

he  fumbled  with  it  he  heard  someone  stir  in  Barlow's 
room. 

"Who's  there  ?"  he  called  out.    "That  you,  Twisty  ?" 

There  was  no  answer.  He  rapped  on  the  door  and 
called  again.  Then  he  heard  quick  steps  across  the 
room  and  a  door  dosed;  whoever  had  been  there, 
listening  without  doubt  to  his  talk  with  Rios,  had 
gone. 

He  came  back  and  passing  through  his  own  little 
sitting-room  tried  the  door  to  the  hall,  that  through 
which  Rios  had  departed.  Fastened  by  heavy  iron 
hooks  on  the  other  side;  he  could  hear  them  grate  in 
their  staples  as  he  shook  the  door. 

"A  man  had  better  be  in  bed  this  time  of  night 
than  rapping  at  locked  doors,"  he  decided.  And  in 
five  minutes  was  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CONCERNING    WOMAN'S    WILES   AND   WITCHERY 

WHEN  Jim  woke  next  morning  his  first  act  was  to 
try  doors  and  window.  All  were  as  he  had  left  them 
last  night.  But  since  he  was  not  the  man  for  worry 
before  breakfast  he  went  into  his  tub  singing.  When 
he  had  splashed  refreshingly  in  the  cool  water  and 
thereafter  had  dressed,  breakfast  was  ready  for  him. 
For,  while  he  was  in  his  own  room  he  heard  the  door 
to  the  room  Barlow  had  slept  in  the  first  night  open. 
And  when  he  went  through  the  bath  to  see  who  was 
there  he  saw  a  tray  spread  on  a  little  table  by  a  win- 
dow, the  coffee  steaming.  No  one  was  there.  He 
tried  the  outer  door  which  led  to  the  hall.  Locked, 
of  course.  So  he  sat  down  and  uncovered  the  hot 
dishes  and  made  a  hearty  meal. 

"They've  certainly  got  the  big  bulge  on  the  situa- 
tion," he  conceded.  "They  could  starve  a  man,  poison 
his  rolls  or  bore  a  bullet  into  him  while  he  slept,  and 
who  outside  to  know  about  it  ?" 

Now  he  had  the  run  of  four  rooms  and  could  look 
out  into  the  gardens.  Not  so  bad,  he  consoled  him- 
self. He  had  his  smoke  and  sat  back  in  his  chair, 
assuring  himself  that  there  were  advantages  in  being 
shut  off  by  himself  where  he  could  take  time  to  shape 
his  plans.  But  as  an  hour  passed  in  silence — not  a 
£ound  from  any  part  of  the  big  house  all  of  whose 
inmates  might  have  been  asleep  or  dead — and  another 
hour  dragged  by  after  it,  he  grew  first  impatient  and 


i54  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

then  angry.  He  had  found  that  all  of  his  planning 
could  be  done  in  five  minutes :  It  resolved  itself  down 
to  a  decision  to  have  a  talk  with  Barlow  and  then, 
with  or  without  help  from  Ruiz  Rios,  to  make  a  bolt 
for  the  open.  If  Bruce  and  Barlow  would  come  to 
their  senses  and  join  him,  it  would  all  be  so  simple. 
Three  able-bodied,  determined  Americans  against  a 
handful  of  Zoraida's  hirelings. 

The  time  came  when  Jim  thundered  at  the  doors 
and  called.  When  only  silence  followed  his  echoing 
voice  he  hammered  at  the  hardwood  doors  with  the 
butt  of  his  revolver  and  shouted,  demanding  to  be 
let  out.  He  tried  the  iron  gratings  over  the  windows 
and  found  them  firm  in  their  places  and  too  heavy- 
barred  to  be  bent  In  the  end  he  gave  over  in  high 
disgust  and  waited. 

Toward  noon,  while  he  was  in  his  own  room,  pac- 
ing restlessly  up  and  down,  he  heard  a  door  slam.  He 
ran  to  the  bathroom  and  found  that  the  door  leading 
to  Barlow's  former  quarters  was  closed  and  locked. 
Someone  was  moving  about  just  beyond  the  thick 
panel.  He  heard  the  homely  sound  of  dishes  on  a 
tray  and  waited,  his  hand  on  the  doorknob,  meaning 
to  push  his  way  forward  once  the  door  was  opened. 
But  he  heard  no  other  sound,  though  he  waited 
minute  after  minute  until  perhaps  half  an  hour  had 
dragged  by.  Then  he  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  tub, 
grown  stubborn,  determined  not  to  budge.  And  so 
another  half  hour  passed. 

An  hour  was  a  long  time  for  Jim  Kendric  to  sit 
or  stand  still  and  at  the  end  of  it  he  began  pacing  up 
and  down  again;  at  first  just  in  the  narrow  confines 
of  the  bath,  presently  soft-footedly  upon  the  soft 
carpet  of  his  room.  And  no  sooner  had  he  stepped 
a  dozen  paces  from  the  bathroom  door  than  he  heard 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY      153 

a  bolt  shot  back.  He  raced  to  the  door  that  had  so 
long  baffled  him  and  threw  it  open.  As  he  did  so  he 
heard  the  outer  hall  door  slam  shut.  When  he  laid 
hasty  hands  on  it  it  was  barred  again. 

"Well,  there's  food,  anyway,"  he  muttered.  And 
sat  down. 

Half  way  through  his  meal  a  thought  struck  him 
which  gave  little  zest  to  the  rest  of  his  food.  He  had 
walked  silently  when  he  left  his  post;  no  one  waiting 
in  the  room  where  the  tray  was  could  have  heard  him, 
he  felt  sure.  Then  how  did  that  person  know  the 
instant  he  stepped  away?  He  could  not  have  been 
spied  on  through  the  keyhole  of  the  door  since  no  key- 
hole was  there;  the  fastening  -on  the  other  side  was 
simply  that  of  primitive  bar.  But  that  he  had  been 
spied  on  he  was  confident.  Well,  why  not?  The 
house  was  old  and  no  doubt  had  known  no  end  of 
intrigue  in  its  time.  The  walls  were  thick  enough 
for  passageways  within  them;  an  eye  might  be  upon 
him  all  the  time.  He  did  not  relish  the  thought  but 
refused  to  grow  fanciful  over  it. 

The  afternoon  he  spent  stoically  accepting  his  con- 
dition. As  he  put  it  to  himself,  the  other  fellow  had 
the  large,  lovely  bulge  on  the  situation.  For  the  most 
part  of  the  sultry  afternoon  he  sat  in  shirt-sleeved 
discomfort  at  his  open  window,  staring  out  into  the 
empty  gardens  and  wondering  what  the  other  dwellers 
of  the  old  adobe  house  were  doing.  Where  were 
Bruce  and  Barlow  and  what  lies  was  Zoraida  telling 
them?  And  where  was  Betty?  He  did  not  realize 
that  his  wandering  thoughts  came  back  to  Betty  more 
often  than  to  either  of  his  friends  whom  he  had  known 
so  many  years.  But  realization  was  forced  upon  him 
that,  despite  all  he  had  told  both  Zoraida  and  Ruiz 
Rios,  he  did  feel  a  very  sincere  interest  in  her.  When 


156  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

repeatedly  vague  fears  on  Betty's  account  disturbed 
him  he  told  himself  not  to  be  a  fool  and  sought  to 
dismiss  them  for  good.  What  though  Zoraida  had 
indulged  in  wild  talk?  At  least  she  was  a  woman 
and  though  she  held  Betty  for  ransom  would  be 
woman  enough  to  hold  her  in  safety.  And  yet  his 
fears  surged  back,  stronger  each  time,  and  he  would 
have  given  a  good  deal  to  know  just  where  and  how 
Betty  was  spending  the  long  hours  of  this  interminable 
day. 

Finally  came  dusk,  time  of  the  first  stars  in  the  sky 
and  lighted  lamps  in  men's  houses.  And,  bringing 
him  infinite  relief,  a  tap  at  his  door  and  the  gentle 
voice  of  Rosita  saying: 

"La  Senorita  invites  Senor  Kendric,  if  he  has  rested 
sufficiently,  to  join  her  and  her  other  guests  at  table." 

He  followed  the  little  maid  to  the  great  dim  dining- 
room.  Purple-shaded  lamps  created  an  atmosphere 
which  impressed  him  as  a  little  weird;  the  long  table 
was  set  forth  elaborately  with  much  rich  silver  and 
sparkling  glass;  several  men  servants  stood  ready  to 
place  chairs  and  serve;  there  were  rare  white  flowers 
in  tall  vases,  looking  a  bluish-white  under  the  lamps. 
As  Kendric  came  to  the  threshold  wide  double  doors 
across  the  room  opened  and  Zoraida's  other  "guests" 
entered.  They  were  Bruce,  stiff  and  uncomfortable, 
seeming  to  be  doing  his  best  to  unbend  toward  Betty ; 
Betty  herself,  flushed  and  excited;  Barlow,  morose 
because  of  the  arm  he  wore  in  a  sling  or  because  of  a 
day  not  passed  to  his  liking  \  and  Ruiz  Rios,  suave  and 
immaculate  in  white  flannels. 

When  they  were  all  in  the  room  a  constraint  like  a 
tangible  inhibition  against  any  natural  spontaneity 
fell  over  them.  Kendric  read  in  Barlow's  look  no  joy 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY      157 

at  the  sight  of  him  but  only  a  sullen  brooding;  Betty 
flashed  one  look  at  him  in  which  was  nothing  of  last 
night's  friendliness  but  an  aloofness  which  might  have 
been  compounded  of  scorn  and  distrust;  Bruce  ap- 
peared not  to  notice  hinu 

"Oh,  well,"  was  Kendric's  inward  comment  "The 
devil  take  the  lot  of  them." 

Zoraida  did  not  keep  them  waiting.  One  of  the 
servants,  as  though  he  had  had  some  signal,  threw 
open  still  another  door  and  Zoraida,  a  splendid,  vivid 
and  vital  Zoraida,  burst  upon  their  sight  She  was 
gowned  as  though  she  had  on  the  instant  stepped  from 
a  fashionable  Paris  salon.  And  as  though,  on  her 
swift  way  hither,  she  had  stopped  only  an  instant  in 
some  barbaric  king's  treasure  house  to  snatch  up  and 
bedeck  herself  with  his  most  resplendent  jewels.  Her 
arms  were  bare  save  for  scintillating  stones  set  in 
broad  gold  bands;  long  pendants,  that  seemed  to  live 
and  breathe  with  their  throbbing  rubies,  trembled  from 
the  tiny  lobes  of  her  shell-pink  ears.  Her  throat  was 
bare,  her  gown  so  daringly  low  cut  at  breast  and  back 
that  Betty  stared  and  flushed  and  turned  away  from 
the  sight  of  her. 

At  her  best  was  Zoraida  tonight  Life  stood  high 
in  her  blood;  zest  shone  like  a  bright  fire  in  her  eyes. 
A  moment  she  poised,  looking  the  queen  which  she 
meant  to  become,  which  already  in  her  heart  she  felt 
herself.  The  inclination  of  her  head  as  she  greeted 
them,  the  graciousness  which  the  moment  drew  from 
her,  were  regal. 

Even  the  heavy  arm-chair  at  the  head  of  the  table 
had  the  look  of  a  throne.  Two  men  drew  it  back 
for  her,  moved  it  into  place  when  she  was  seated. 
Then  she  looked  to  her  guests,  smiled  and  nodded  and 
in  silence  each  accepted  the  place  given  him.  Thus 


158  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Jim  Kendric  sat  at  the  other  end  of  the  table  in  a 
chair  like  Zoraida's.  At  his  right  was  Betty  who,  since 
she  averted  her  face  from  both  him  and  Zoraida, 
kept  her  eyes  on  her  plate.  At  his  left  was  Ruiz  Rios, 
To  right  and  left  of  Zoraida  sat  Bruce  and  Barlow. 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Zoraida  lightly,  embracing 
them  all  with  her  quick  smile,  "that  I  have  seemed  to 
lack  in  courtesy  to  my  friends  today!  But  here, 
amigos,  when  you  come  to  know  our  land  of  the  sun. 
you  will  understand  that  the  long  hot  days  are  for 
rest  and  solitude  in  shady  places  while  it  is  during  the 
nights  that  one  lives."  A  goblet  of  wine  as  yellow 
as  butter  stood  at  her  hand  having  just  been  poured 
from  an  ancient  misshapen  earthen  bottle.  She  lifted 
it  and  held  it  while  the  other  glasses  were  filled.  "I 
drink  with  you,  my  friends,  to  many  golden  nights!" 

She  scarcely  more  than  touched  the  yellow  wine 
with  her  lips  and  looked  to  the  others.  Barlow,  still 
surly,  tossed  off  his  drink  at  a  gulp.  Bruce  drank 
slowly,  a  little,  and  set  his  glass  down.  Betty  did  not 
lift  her  eyes  and  kept  her  hands  in  her  lap.  Ruiz 
tasted  eagerly  and  his  eyes  sparkled  and  widened. 
Kendric  mechanically  set  his  glass  to  his  lips,  drank 
sparingly  and  marveled.  For  never  had  he  tasted 
vintage  like  this.  Its  fragrance  in  his  nostrils  rose 
with  strange  pleasant  sensation  to  his  brain;  a  drop 
on  his  palate  seemed  to  pass  directly  into  his  blood 
and  electrically  thrill  throughout  his  whole  body.  The 
draft  was  like  a  magic  brew;  potent  and  seductive  it 
soothed  and  at  the  same  time  set  a  delicious  unrest 
in  the  blood,  like  that  vaguely  stirring  unrest  of  youth 
in  springtime. 

Barlow,  the  sullen,  alone  had  drunk  deeply.  And 
in  a  flash  Barlow  was  another  man.  A  warm  color 
crept  into  his  weathered  cheeks,  he  drew  himself  up 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY      159 

in  his  chair,  his  eyes  shone.  Zoraida,  looking  from 
face  to  face,  laughed  softly. 

"What  say  you,  my  guests,  to  Zoraida's  wine  ?"  she 
said  happily.  "Made  for  Zoraida  a  full  four  hundred 
years  ago,  treasured  for  her  in  the  vaults  of  the  an- 
cient Montezumas,  distilled  from  the  olden  moon- 
berry  which  no  longer  do  men  know  where  to  find  or 
how  to  grow!  None  but  the  Montezumas  themselves 
and  the  priests  of  the  great  god  Ouetzel  ever  drank 
of  it,  and  they  only  on  great  feast  days  of  rejoicing. 
A  taste,  Miss  Pansy  Blossom,  would  bring  back  the 
roses  to  your  pale  cheeks.  And  see  my  friend  Bar- 
low!" Lightly,  laughing,  she  laid  her  hand  for  a 
fleeting  instant  on  his  arm.  "Already  has  the  moon- 
berry  made  his  heart  swell  and  blossom  and  filled  it 
with  dream  stuff  like  honey !" 

Something — the  golden  liquor  in  his  veins  or  Zo- 
raida's touch  or  the  look  in  her  eyes — emboldened  the 
sea-faring  man.  He  clamped  his  big  hairy  hand  down 
over  her  slim  fingers  and  cried  out,  half  starting  from 
his  chair: 

"It's  in  my  mind,  Zoraida,  that  the  old  Montezumas 
left  more  than  bottled  moonshine  after  them.  To  be 
taken  by  them  that  have  the  hearts  for  the  job.  May- 
be for  you —  Yes,  and  for  me !" 

Zoraida  drew  her  hand  away  but  the  laughter  did 
not  die  in  her  eyes  or  pass  away  from  her  scarlet 
lips.  Barlow,  holding  himself  stiff,  shot  a  look  that 
was  open  challenge  at  Kendric  who  returned  it  won- 
deringly.  Rios  touched  up  the  ends  of  his  black 
mustachios  and  appeared  highly  good  humored. 

"Who  knows  ?"  said  Zoraida  softly,  with  a  sidelong 
look  at  Kendric.  "At  least,  spoken  like  a  man,  friend 
Barlow!" 

Her  moocl  was  one  of  intense  exhilaration.     The 


160  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

movements  of  her  supple  body  in  her  ample  chair 
were  quick  and  graceful  and  sinuous,  like  a  slender 
snake's;  she  seemed  a-thrill  and  glowing;  it  was  as 
though  for  the  moment  life  was  for  her  as  a  great 
dynamo  to  which  she  had  drawn  close  so  that  it  sent 
its  mighty  pristine  and  vigorous  current  dancing 
through  her.  She  lifted  her  glass  and  sipped  while 
she  still  smiled;  she  saw  Barlow's  empty  goblet  and 
impulsively  emptied  into  it  half  of  her  own.  Though 
her  back  for  the  time  was  upon  Bruce  she  seemed  to 
feel  his  quick  jealous  frown,  for  she  turned  swiftly 
from  Barlow,  and  her  fingers  fluttered  to  Bruce's 
shoulder.  Kendric  saw  her  eyes  as  she  gave  them  to 
Bruce  in  a  look  that  was  like  a  kiss.  The  boy  flushed 
and  when  she  made  further  amends  by  holding  to  his 
lips  her  own  glass,  he  touched  it  almost  reverently. 

Kendric,  sickening  with  disgust  at  what  he  chose 
to  consider  a  competition  in  assininity  between  his  two 
old  friends,  turned  from  them  to  Betty  with  some 
trivial  remark  As  he  spoke  he  was  contrasting  her 
with  the  splendid  Zoraida  and  had  he  voiced  the  com- 
parison Zoraida  must  have  whitened  with  anger  and 
mortification  while  Betty  flushed  up,  startled.  He 
would  have  said:  "One  is  like  a  poison  serpent  and 
the  other  like  a  flower."  But  instead  of  that  he 
merely  said : 

"And  how  have  you  spent  the  long  day,  Miss 
Betty  ?" 

Betty  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  him  steadily. 
A  flower?  Quickly,  even  before  she  spoke,  he  amended 
that.  A  girl,  rather;  a  girl  with  a  mind  of  her  own 
and  a  sorching  hot  temper  and  her  utterly  human  mo- 
ments of  unreasonableness.  Her  glance  meant  to  cut 
and  did  cut  Her  voice  was  serene,  cool  and  con* 
temptuous. 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY     161 

"I  do  not  require  to  be  amused,  thank  you,"  she 
said 

"Amused?"  demanded  Kendric,  puzzled  equally  by 
words  and  expression. 

"I  am  here  against  my  will,"  she  explained.  "You 
are  among  your  chosen  friends.  To  entertain  me 
you  need  not  deny  yourself  the  pleasure  of  their  de- 
lightful conversation." 

"You  know  better  than  that,"  he  said  sharply.  "If 
you  don't  care  to  talk  with  me " 

"I  don't,"  said  Betty. 

Kendric  reddened  angrily.  He  opened  his  lips  for 
the  retort  he  meant  to  make ;  then  instead  gulped  down 
his  wine  and  sat  back  glowering.  After  having  been 
fool  enough  to  worry  over  her  all  day  long  to  be 
told  to  hold  his  tongue  now  set  him  to  forming  sweep- 
ing and  denunciatory  generalizations  concerning  her 
entire  sex.  Well,  he  wanted  matters  simplified  and 
here  came  the  desired  solution.  Betty  could  forage  for 
herself,  could  go  to  the  devil  if  she  liked,  he  told  him- 
self bluntly.  Before  the  night  passed  he  meant  to 
make  a  break  for  the  open  and,  thank  God,  he'd  go 
alone.  As  a  man  should,  with  no  woman  around  his 
neck.  Because  a  girl  had  hurt  him  he  chose  now  to 
pretend  to  himself  that  he  was  glad  to  be  rid  of  her. 

After  that,  during  the  meal,  both  Jim  and  Betty 
sat  for  the  most  part  silent  and  Rios,  nursing  his 
mustache  and  watching  all  that  went  forward,  had 
little  to  say.  On  the  other  hand  Zoraida  and  Bruce 
and  Barlow  made  the  dinner  hour  lively  with  their 
talk.  Skilled  in  her  management  of  men,  Zoraida  had 
never  shown  greater  genius  for  holding  two  red 
blooded,  ardent  men  in  leash.  She  threw  favors  to 
each  side  of  her;  a  tumbled  rose  from  her  hair  was 
loot  for  the  sailorman  who  at  the  moment  was  of  a 


162  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

mood  to  forget  other  greater  and  more  golden  loot 
for  the  scented,  wilting  petals;  a  bracelet  coming  un- 
done was  for  Bruce's  eager  fingers  to  fasten.  And 
always  when  she  looked  at  one  man  with  a  kiss  in  her 
oblique  eyes  her  head  was  turned  so  that  the  other 
man  might  not  see.  Kendric  she  ignored. 

"The  same  old  story  of  good  men  gone  wrong," 
philosophized  Kendric,  "Let  a  man  get  a  woman  in 
his  head  and  he's  no  earthly  good."  And,  in  his  turn, 
he  ignored  Betty.  Or  at  least  assured  himself  that  he 
did  so.  But  Betty,  being  Betty,  though  for  the  most 
part  her  eyes  seemed  downcast,  knew  that  the  man  at 
her  side  thought  of  little  but  her  own  exasperating 
self.  She  did  a  good  bit  of  speculating  upon  Jim 
Kendric;  she  was  perplexed  and  uncertain;  when  he 
was  not  observing  she  shot  many  a  curious  sidelong 
look  at  him. 

"Miss  Zoraida  is  about  due  to  overreach  herself," 
thought  Kendric.  "She  can't  drive  Barlow  and  Bruce 
tandem." 

But  Zoraida  appeared  to  feel  no  uneasiness.  As  the 
meal  went  on  and  meats  and  fruits  were  served  and 
other  vintages  poured  and  coffee  set  bubbling  over  a 
tiny  alcohol  flame  on  the  table,  her  spirits  rose  and 
she  dared  anything.  She  was  sure  of  herself  and  of 
her  destiny  and  of  her  dominance  over  the  pleasure- 
able  situation.  Bruce's  eyes  and  Barlow's  clashed  like 
knives,  but  when  they  met  hers  softened  and  wor- 
shiped. 

At  the  end  of  the  meal,  when  they  rose,  Zoraida 
cried:  "Wait!"  At  her  signal  her  servants  swiftly 
lifted  the  table  and  carried  it  out  through  the  double 
doors.  Another  smaller  table  was  brought  in;  a  man 
came  to  Zoraida  with  a  small  steel  box.  She  took  it 
laughing,  and  laughing  spilled  its  contents  out  upon 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY     163 

the  table  so  that  gold  pieces  rolled  jingling  across  the 
polished  top  and  some  fell  to  the  floor.  With  her 
own  hands  she  carelessly  divided  the  gold  into  four 
nearly  equal  piles. 

"For  my  guests!"  she  told  them  lightly.  She  took 
from  the  servant's  hands  a  deck  of  cards  and  tossed 
it  down  among  the  minted  gold.  "I  would  watch  such 
men  as  you  four  play  for  the  whole  stake.  And," 
she  added  more  slowly,  her  burning  look  embracing 
them  all  but  lingering  upon  Jim  Kendric,  "I  have  a 
curiosity  to  know  who  of  you  in  my  house  is  the  most 
favored  of  the  gods!" 

"There's  a  goodly  pile  there,  Senorita,"  said  Barlow 
who  could  never  look  upon  gold  without  hungering. 
""You  mean  it  all  goes  to  the  man  who  wins?  And 
you  don't  play?" 

"All  that,"  she  answered  him  steadily,  "goes  to  the 
man  who  wins.  With  perhaps  much  more?  Who 
knows?" 

Bruce  stepped  eagerly  to  the  table  where  already 
Barlow  was  before  him  with  a  heap  of  the  gold  drawn 
up  to  his  hand.  Ruiz  Rios  took  his  place  indifferently, 
affecting  a  look  of  ennui.  Kendric  held  back.  Betty, 
aloof  from  them  all,  looked  about  her  as  though  to 
escape.  But  at  each  door,  as  though  forbidding  exit, 
stood  one  of  Zoraida's  men. 

"You  yourself  do  not  play?"  Barlow  asked  of 
Zoraida. 

"This  time,  my  friend,"  she  replied,  "I  am  content 
to  watch." 

Content  rather,  thought  Kendric,  to  amuse  herself 
by  stirring  up  more  bad  blood  among  friends.  For 
the  look  he  saw  on  her  face  was  one  of  pure  malicious 
mischief.  It  occurred  to  him  that  she  had  sorrowed 
not  at  all  over  the  taking  off  of  Escobar  at  Rios's 


164  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

hand;  he  had  the  suspicion  that  in  her  cleverness  she 
discerned  looming  trouble  as  a  result  of  encouraging 
the  infatuations  of  two  men  like  Bruce  and  Barlow, 
and  that  before  she  would  let  herself  be  destroyed  by 
an  inevitable  jealous  rage  she  meant  to  set  them  at 
each  other's  throats.  Such  an  act  he  deemed  entirely 
germane  to  Zoraida' s  dark  methods. 

"Sefior  Jim  does  not  care  to  play?"  she  asked 
quietly. 

Had  not  Betty  chosen  to  look  at  him  then  Kendric's 
answer  would  have  been  a  blunt,  "No."  But  Betty 
did  look,  and  the  glance  was  as  eloquent  as  a  gush  of 
stinging  words.  Without  a  clue  to  the  girl's  thoughts, 
he  merely  set  her  down  as  the  most  illogical,  imperti- 
nent and  irritating  creature  it  had  ever  been  his  bad 
lot  to  encounter.  For  her  eyes  told  him  that  he  was 
an  animal  of  some  sort  of  a  crawling  species  which 
she  abhorred.  This  after  he  had  put  in  long  troubled 
hours  seeking  the  way  to  be  of  service  to  her! 

"Bah,"  he  said  in  his  heart,  staring  coldly  at  her 
until  she  averted  her  eyes,  "they're  all  the  same."  And 
to  Zoraida,  "I'll  play  but  I  play  with  my  own  money." 

Zoraida  only  laughed.  His  open  rudeness  seemed 
unmarked. 

"Barlow,"  said  Kendric,  "I  want  a  word  with  you 
first." 

Barlow  did  not  turn  or  lift  his  eyes. 

"Talk  fast  then,"  he  retorted.  "The  game's  wait- 
ing." 

"In  private,  if  you  don't  mind,"  urged  Kendric. 

Now  Barlow  looked  at  him  sullenly. 

"After  what  happened  last  night,  Kendric,"  he  said 
heavily,  "you  and  me  have  got  no  private  business 
together.  Am  I  the  man  to  take  a  bullet  from  an- 
other and  then  go  chin  with  him?" 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY      165 

"You  blame  me  for  that?"  Kendric  was  incredu- 
lous. Barlow  snorted.  "Well,"  continued  Kendric 
stiffly,  "at  least  we've  unfinished  business  between  us. 
You  haven't  forgotten  what  brought  us  down  here, 
have  you?" 

"Treasure,  you  mean?"  Barlow  spat  out  the  words 
defiantly.  "Put  the  name  to  it,  man!  Well,  what  of 
it?" 

"The  understanding  was  that  we  stand  together. 
That  we  split  what  we  find  fifty-fifty.  Does  that 
still  go?" 

Barlow  pulled  nervously  at  his  forelock,  his  eyes 
wandering.  For  an  instant  they  were  fixed  on  the 
smiling  face  of  Zoraida.  Then  grown  dogged  they 
came  back  to  Kendric. 

"Hell  take  the  understanding!"  he  blurted  out 
savagely.  "We  stand  even  tonight,  one  as  close  to  the 
loot  as  the  other.  It's  every  man  for  himself,  whole 
hog  or  none,  and  the  devil  take  the  hindmost.  That's 
what  it  is !" 

"Good,"  snapped  Kendric.  "That  suits  me."  He 
slammed  his  little  pad  of  bank  notes  down  on  the 
table  and  took  his  chair.  "What's  the  game,  gentle- 
men?" 

They  named  it  poker  and  played  hard.  Reckless 
men  with  money  were  they  all,  men  accustomed  to  big 
fast  games.  The  most  reckless  of  them,  Jim  Kendric, 
was  in  a  mood  for  anything  provided  it  raced.  Betty's 
attitude,  Betty's  look,  had  stirred  him  after  a  strange 
new  fashion  which  he  did  not  analyze.  Barlow's  un- 
reasonable unfriendliness  hurt  and  angered;  the  jeer 
in  Rios's  hard  black  eyes  ruffled  his  blood.  And  even 
young  Bruce  looked  at  him  with  a  defiance  which 
Kendric  had  no  stomach  for.  From  the  first  card 


i66  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

played,  Jim  Kendric,  like  a  pace  maker  in  a  race, 
stamped  his  spirit  upon  the  struggle. 

Betty,  seeing  that  she  was  not  to  be  allowed  to  go, 
sat  down  and  for  a  space  made  a  pretense  of  ignoring 
what  went  forward  before  her.  But  presently  as  the 
atmosphere  grew  strained  and  intense,  she  forgot  her 
pretense  and  leaned  forward  and  watched  eagerly. 
Zoraida  had  a  couch  drawn  up  for  her,  richly  colored 
silken  cushions  placed  to  her  taste,  and  stretched  out 
luxuriously,  her  chin  in  her  two  hands. 

There  are  isolated  games  wherein  chance  enters 
which  make  one  wonder  what  is  this  thing  named 
chance,  and  from  which  one  rises  at  last  touched  by 
the  superstition  which  holds  so  nrm  a  place  in  the 
hearts  of  all  gamblers.  From  the  beginning  it  was 
Jim  Kendric's  game.  When  a  jack-pot  was  opened 
he  went  into^  it  with  an  ace  high,  though  it  cost  him 
a  hundred  dollars  to  call  for  cards,  which  was  not 
playing  poker  but  defying  mathematics  and  challeng- 
ing his  luck.  And  the  four  cards  given  him  by  Bruce, 
whose  blue  eyes  named  him  fool,  were  two  more  aces 
and  two  queens.  And  the  pot  that  was  close  to  ten 
hundred  dollars  before  the  sweetening  was  done,  was 
his.  Barlow,  who  had  lost  most,  glared  at  him  and 
muttered  under  his  breath;  young  Bruce  merely  stared 
incredulously  and  looked  again  at  the  cards  to  make 
sure;  Rios,  who  had  kept  clear,  smiled  and  mur- 
mured : 

"Lucky  at  cards,  unlucky  in  love,  senor." 

"I  prefer  the  cards,  thanks/'  said  Kendric,  stacking 
his  winnings.  And  there  was  enough  of  the  boy  left 
in  him  for  him  to  look  briefly  for  the  first  time  at 
Betty.  Zoraida  saw  and  bit  her  lip. 

But  though  it  was  borne  in  upon  those  who  played 
and  those  who  watched  that  it  was  Jim  Kendric's 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY     167 

game  there  were  the  inevitable  tense  moments  when 
each  man  in  turn  had  his  own  eager  hope,  Bruce, 
no  cool  hand  at  gambling,  showed  his  excitement  in 
his  shining  blue  eyes;  Barlow  muttered  to  himself; 
Rios  sat  forward  in  his  chair  and  left  off  pointing 
the  tips  of  his  mustaches.  At  the  end  of  the  first  half 
hour,  though  Kendric's  heap  of  winnings  was  by  far 
the  greatest,  no  man  of  them  was  down  to  bed  rock. 
And  by  now  Kendric  lost  patience. 

"Make  it  a  jack  pot  for  table  stakes,"  he  invited. 
"One  hand  for  the  whole  thing!" 

"What's  the  hurry •?"  demanded  Bruce,  "You're 
doing  well  enough  as  it  is,  aren't  you  ?" 

"A  quick  killing  is  better  than  slow  torture,"  re- 
turned Jim  lightly.  "And  you'll  note  that  I  am  offer- 
ing odds.  Better  than  two  to  one  against  the  flushest 
of  you." 

"Bueno,  senor,"  said  Rios.     "It  suits  me." 

"It's  a  fool  thing  to  do,"  growled  Barlow.  A  fool 
thing  for  Kendric,  but  not  for  him,  since  his  were 
the  biggest  losses.  He  had  always  loved  money,  had 
Twisty  Barlow,  and  could  never  understand  Headlong 
Kendric's  contempt  for  it  and  now  looked  at  him  as 
though  at  one  gone  mad.  Then  he  shrugged.  "Suits 
me,"  he  said. 

"Wait !"  Zoraida  suddenly  leaped  to  her  feet,  tossed 
out  her  arms  in  a  wide  gesture,  her  eyes  unfathomable 
and  shining  with  the  mystery  of  a  hidden  thought. 
"I  am  glad  to  have  in  my  house  men  like  you  four! 
You  are  men!  Were  it  life  or  death,  love  or  war  or 
wealth,  you  would  play  the  game  the  same.  Men  like 
you  make  the  blood  run  hot  in  the  heart  of  Zoraida 
who  also  grips  life  by  the  naked  throat.  Wait.  And 
look." 

She  whirled  and  in  another  moment,  as  lithe  as  a 


i68  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

cat,  had  sprung  to  the  top  of  a  serving  table  half 
across  the  room.  And  there  she  displayed  herself  in 
all  her  barbaric  splendor,  posing  like  a  model  in  an 
artist's  studio,  turning  slowly,  standing  at  last  con- 
fronting them,  a-thrill  with  her  own  daring. 

"Would  you  play  for  such  a  stake  as  never  men 
played  for  before?  For  such  a  stake  as  kings  would 
risk  their  crowns  for?  As  such  Zoraida  offers  herself, 
pledging  her  word  to  make  the  rich  gift  of  herself 
to  the  man  who  wins  P 

For  a  moment  all  four  and  Betty  with  them  and 
the  serving  men  at  the  doors  stared  at  her  and  the 
room  was  dead  still.  Through  the  deep  silence  cut 
Zoraida's  laugh,  clear  and  sweet  as  a  silver  bell.  Under 
their  bewildered  gaze  she  preened  herself  like  a 
peacock,  proud  of  her  beauty  so  boldly  displayed  be- 
fore their  eyes.  Zoraida  smiled  slowly. 

"Is  the  stake  high  enough  for  your  play?'7  she  asked 
gently,  in  mock  humility. 

Bruce  surged  up  from  his  chair  only  to  drop  back 
into  it  without  having  said  a  word.  Rios's  eyes  caught 
fire  and  for  the  first  time  Kendric  guessed  that  he, 
too,  was  in  heart  bond-servant  to  his  amazing  cousin. 
Barlow  tugged  at  his  forelock  and  muttered. 

"Heap  all  the  gold  together,"  cried  Zoraida. 
"Play  for  it  and  each  man  of  you  pray  his  favorite 
god  for  success.  For  with  it  goes  Zoraida  P 

Betty,  looking  at  her  out  of  round  eyes,  seemed  once 
more  the  little  girl  Kendric  had  first  taken  her  to  be. 

"Will  you  play?"  said  Zoraida  softly. 

"Yes!    By  God,  yesP  cried  Barlow. 

Rios  merely  nodded  and  shoved  his  money  to  the 
middle  of  the  table.  Bruce  started  like  a  man  from  a 
dream  and  with  hands  that  shook  visibly  thrust  for- 
ward his  own  gold.  Then  all  looked  to  Kendric. 


WOMAN'S  WILES  AND  WITCHERY     169 

Impulse  decided  for  him  and  his  answer  came  with 
no  measurable  time  of  hesitation.  If  he  played  and 
lost,  as  he  looked  at  it,  there  was  nothing  to  regret. 
If  he  played  and  won,  perhaps  it  would  have  been 
Zoraida's  own  all-hazarding  hands  which  had  shown 
the  way  to  break  the  chains  that  bound  his  two  friends 
to  her.  It  would  need  something  like  this  to  bring 
both  Bruce  and  Barlow  to  their  senses.  It  was  mostly 
of  Bruce  that  he  thought  just  then. 

"One  hand  of  cards  ?"  said  Barlow. 

"Rather  one  card,  my  friend,"  said  Kendric  drily. 
"We  are  keeping  a  lady  waiting." 

"Oh!"  gasped  Betty. 

A  shining  pyramid  was  made  of  the  gold  pieces. 
Then  the  cards  were  shuffled  and  one  of  the  serving 
men  was  called  forward.  He  dealt  one  card  to  each 
of  the  four  men,  face  down,  and  stepped  back.  Then 
the  cards  were  turned  over. 

All  were  high  cards,  not  one  lower  than  a  ten,  yet 
with  no  two  alike.  The  one  aco— the  ace  of  hearts — > 
lay  in  front  of  Jim  Kendric. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

CONCERNING   A   DIFFICULT   SITUATION,    RECKLESSLY 
INVITED 

FOR  a  moment  in  the  heavy  silence  Jim  Kendric 
sat  appalled  by  what  he  had  done.  In  the  grip  of  the 
game  he  had  been  swayed  by  emotion,  not  tarrying 
for  cold  logic  during  an  episode  when  time  raced.  He 
had  hoped  to  win.  Thus,  since  he  had  discovered  that 
Rios,  too,  was  enamored  of  his  beautiful  cousin,  he 
would  tease  an  old  enemy,  sober  Bruce,  jolt  Barlow 
— and  vex  Betty.  He  had  not  thought  of  himself  nor 
of  Zoraida. 

No  one  spoke.  The  first  sound  was  a  long  shud- 
dering breath  from  young  Bruce;  his  face  was  a  sick 
white  save  for  a  spot  of  red  in  each  cheek;  his  eyes 
looked  like  those  of  a  man  with  a  high  fever.  Kendric 
sat  staring  in  perplexity  at  the  gold  he  had  won,  au- 
tomatically gathering  it  toward  him.  Zoraida  stood 
motionless,  displaying  herself,  awaiting  his  eyes.  And 
abruptly,  when  he  lifted  his  head,  his  eyes  went  not 
to  her  but  to  Betty. 

The  girl  appeared  fascinated  and  horrified.  Jim's 
eyes  pleaded  with  her.  Betty  began  to  twist  her  hands 
in  an  agony  of  bewildered  emotions.  Zoraida,  wait- 
ing for  Jim's  face  to  be  lifted  to  her  and  not  one  ac- 
customed to  waiting  on  a  man,  frowned.  But  swiftly 
and  before  anyone  but  the  always  watchful  Rios  saw, 
she  broke  the  silence  with  her  little  cooing  laughter. 
She  put  out  her  two  white  arms  toward  the  men  at 
the  table,  saying  softly : 

170 


A  DIFFICULT  SITUATION  171 

"Will  you  help  me  down,  Senor  Jim  ?" 

Before  Kendric  could  answer  Bruce  was  on  his  feet. 
The  blood  charged  to  his  face  so  that  the  red  spots 
were  merged  in  the  crimson  flood.  The  boy  looked 
ready  for  murder. 

"Stop  this,  Zoraida!"  he  said  excitedly.  "Stop  it! 
You  are  mad.  Have  you  forgotten? — Good  God!" 

"Betty — "  said  Kendric,  hardly  knowing  what  he 
would  say.  He  wanted  her  to  understand — 

"Don't  speak  to  me !"  Betty  flung  the  words  at  him 
passionately.  "You  are  an  unthinkable  beast!" 

Bruce  heard  nothing  that  was  said,  saw  nothing  but 
Zoraida,  He  came  two  steps  toward  her  and  then 
stopped,  staring  at  her. 

"Zoraida,"  he  commanded,  as  one  who  speaks  with 
love's  authority,  "you  don't  realize  what  you  are  doing. 
It  is  that  cursed  wine  you  have  drunk  or  there  is  just 
desperation  in  the  air  and  it  has  got  into  you.  This 
hideous  jest  has  gone  far  enough — too  far.  Tell  them, 
tell  Kendric,  that  it  was  all  a  jest.  Nothing  more." 

"Had  you  won,"  said  Zoraida  sweetly,  "what  then,. 
Senor  Bruce?  Would  you  have  been  jesting?" 

Brace's  lips  moved  but  no  words  came.  Suddenly 
he  whirled  from  her  upon  Kendric,  his  face  distorted 
with  rage. 

"Damn  you!"  he  burst  out. 

No  longer  was  it  merely  a  case  of  murder  in  his 
lock.  The  urge  to  kill  had  swept  into  his  heart,  rushed 
hotly  along  his  pounding  arteries.  Before  now  had 
Kendric  seen  men  frenzy-lashed,  like  Brace,  briefly 
insane  with  the  blood  impulse  and  as  Brace  cursed 
him  he  knew  that  he  meant  to  kill  him.  There  were 
half  a  dozen  paces  between  the  two  men  and  already 
was  Brace's  hand  lost  under  the  skirt  of  his  coat. 
Kendric  sprang  to  his  feet  and  as  he  did  so  Bruce 


172  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

whipped  out  his  pistol.  There  seemed  no  loss  of  time 
between  the  action  and  the  discharge.  But  Kendric 
had  been  quick  and  only  his  promptness  saved  the 
life  in  him  that  night.  As  he  went  to  his  feet  he  swept 
up  in  his  hand  a  heap  of  the  shining  gold  pieces  and 
flung  them  straight  into  the  boy's  purpling  face.  The 
bullet  went  by  Kendric's  head  doing  no  harm  beyond 
splintering  the  wall  behind  him.  Before  Bruce  could 
shake  his  head  and  fire  again  Kendric  was  upon  him, 
worrying  him  as  a  dog  worries  a  cat.  Bruce,  even  in 
the  desperation  driving  him,  and  with  a  gun  in  his 
hand,  was  little  more  than  a  stripling  in  the  hard  hands 
at  his  wrist  and  throat.  A  sudden  heave  and  mighty 
jerk  came  close  to  breaking  his  arm  and  freed  the 
pistol  from  his  claw-like  fingers.  Kendric  hurled  him 
back  so  that  Bruce  staggered  half  across  the  room 
and  crashed  to  the  floor.  Before  he  could  come  to  his 
feet  the  pistol  had  been  dropped  into  Kendric's  coat 
pocket 

During  the  whole  time  Twisty  Barlow  had  sat  like 
a  man  bereft  of  volition,  his  face  puckered  queerly, 
his  mouth  a  little  open,  He  looked  at  the  gold  on  the 
table  top  and  at  Zoraida;  when  Kendric  had  hurled 
the  coins  into  Bruce's  face  he  looked  at  the  gold  roll- 
ing across  the  floor  and  again  back  to  Zoraida.  Rios, 
having  risen  quietly,  stood  with  one  hand  on  the  back 
of  his  chair,  one  hand  at  his  mustache,  looking  steadily 
at  his  cousin.  Even  while  Kendric  and  Bruce  battled 
Rios  gave  them  scant  attention.  He  was  watching 
Zoraida  as  though  his  life  itself  depended  on  his  read- 
ing her  wild  heart  aright 

Slowly,  as  though  he  had  been  half  stunned,  Brace 
rose  from  the  floor.  Once  more  his  face  was  white 
and  looked  sick.  He  had  in  his  eyes  the  startled  ex- 
pression of  a  man  rudely  awakened  from  profound 


A  DIFFICULT  SITUATION  173 

slumber.  He  walked  with  dragging  feet  across  the 
room  and  dropped  wearily  into  a  chair.  He  put  his 
elbows  on  his  knees  and  his  head  into  his  hands. 

Zoraida,  seeing  that  Kendric  would  not  come  to  her, 
caught  up  her  gown  and  leaped  lightly  down,  landing 
softly  like  a  cat.  She  put  into  her  eyes  what  she  pleased, 
a  confusion  of  messages,  a  swooning  passion,  a  maid- 
enly tenderness,  a  joy  that  seemed  to  peep  forth  shyly. 
On  tiptoes,  as  though  she  would  not  break  the  hush 
of  the  room,  she  went  to  the  hall  door,  smiling  a  little 
in  her  backward  look.  A  moment  she  whispered  to 
the  serving  man  at  the  door;  then  she  was  gone  and 
they  heard  only  the  light  patter  of  her  slippers. 

The  man  to  whom  Zoraida  had  whispered  spoke  in 
an  undertone  to  his  fellows.  One  of  them  went  out 
swiftly;  the  others  threw  wide  the  three  doors  and 
then  gathered  up  the  fallen  gold  It  was  replaced  in 
its  box  and  gravely  presented  to  Kendric.  He  threw 
back  the  lid,  thrust  into  his  pocket  without  counting 
what  he  deemed  equal  to  the  amount  he  had  played  and 
tossed  the  box  back  to  the  servant. 

"Divide  with  your  friends/1  he  said  shortly,  and 
turned  toward  Betty.  But  already,  with  the  doors 
open,  she  had  sought  escape.  He  saw  the  whisk  of 
her  skirt  and  marked  the  erect  carriage  of  her  head 
of  brown  hair  as  she  went  out. 

Jim  Kendric  stood  looking  about  him  and  cursed 
himself  for  a  fool  Headlong  he  had  always  been, 
plunging  ever  into  deep  waters  that  were  not  over 
clear,  but  he  could  not  recall  the  time  he  had  been 
a  greater  blunderer.  He  had  no  more  than  decided 
that  the  one  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to  simplify  mat- 
ters than  here  he  went  already  interfering  in  other 
iness  axuj  making  a  mess  of  the  whole 


1/4  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

thing1.  Betty  adjudged  him  being  desirous  of  becom- 
ing Zoraida' s  lover;  Bruce  sought  his  death;  Rios's 
eyes  were  like  knives;  Barlow  still  sent  his  sullen 
glances  from  the  box  of  gold  in  a  servant's  hands  to 
the  door  through  which  Zoraida  had  passed.  Ken- 
dric went  to  where  Bruce  still  sat  and  put  his  hand 
gently  on  the  slack  shoulder. 

"Bruce,  old  man "  he  said. 

But  Bruce,  though  with  little  spirit  in  the  move- 
ment, shook  the  hand  away. 

"There's  no  call  for  talk  between  you  and  me,  Jim," 
he  said  wearily.  "Talk  can't  change  things.  Just 
now  I  wanted  to  kill  you!"  He  shuddered. 

The  man  with  whom  Zoraida  had  whispered  was 
speaking  quietly  with  Rios.  Kendric,  seeing  them  be- 
yond Bruce's  bowed  head,  saw  a  fire  of  rebellion  burn- 
ing in  Rios's  eyes.  Then,  surprising  him  when  he 
expected  an  outburst,  Rios  merely  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  left  the  room.  The  servant  came  on  to 
Barlow.  Again  he  whispered.  Barlow  heard  him 
through  stolidly,  then  for  the  first  time  looked  long 
and  steadily  at  Kendric.  Kendric  guessed  from  the 
workings  of  his  face  that  he  was  struggling  with  his 
own  problem.  Gradually  the  sailor  closed  his  mouth 
until  at  last  the  teeth  were  clamped  tight,  the  muscles 
at  the  corners  of  his  jaw  bulging. 

"Barlow,"  said  Kendric  then,  "there's  too  infernally 
much  whispering  in  corners  in  this  house.  Even  if 
we  three  seem  to  be  at  cross  purposes  now  we  have 
been  friends " 

"You  talk  of  friendship!"  Barlow  spoke  with  cold 
bitterness.  "When  here  I  crawl  around  with  a  hole 
in  my  shoulder;  when  West  there  in  his  chair  has  just 
tried  to  bore  you  and  got  smashed  in  the  face  for  his 
trouble!  After  what's  happened  tonight,  man,  you 


A  DIFFICULT  SITUATION  175 

and  me  are  done."  He  stalked  off  to  the  door.  But 
at  the  threshold  he  paused  long  enough  to  turn  and 
mutter:  "We  all  know  what  we  are  after,  I  guess. 
Don't  fool  yourself,  Jim  Kendric,  that  everything's 
landslidin'  you  way." 

Plainly  Zoraida's  orders  had  been  intended  to  clear 
the  room  save  for  Kendric.  For  the  servant  came  to 
Bruce  when  Barlow  had  gone  and  spoke  to  him.  Ken- 
dric tried  to  catch  the  words  but  could  not.  But  he 
saw  Bruce  suddenly  jerk  up  his  head  and  watched  a 
slow  return  of  color  into  the  drawn  face.  Then  Bruce, 
eyeing  Kendric  with  suspicion  and  in  open  hostility, 
quitted  him  in  a  silence  that  was  ominous. 

Kendric's  anger,  ever  ready  like  his  mirth,  burned 
hot  through  him.  He  had  shot  Barlow  in  Bruce's 
quarrel,  not  knowing  Barlow  in  the  dark,  and  for  this 
Barlow  hated  him.  Bruce  had  sought  to  kill  him,  and 
for  this  Bruce  hated  him.  He  had  sought  to  befriend 
Betty,  and  Betty  hated  him.  He  had  played  fair  with 
them  all,  and  now  all  of  them  were  set  against  him. 

"Devil  take  the  whole  outfit!"  he  cried  out  passion- 
ately. "From  now  on,  Jim  Kendric,  you  feather  your 
own  nest  and  hit  the  one-man  trail  for  the  open." 

The  servingman,  whom  Zoraida's  commands  had 
constituted  a  sort  of  master  of  ceremonies,  came  to 
Kendric,  his  look  curious  but  not  unfriendly.  The 
box  with  its  gold  was  still  in  his  hands. 

"You  will  follow  me,  sefior?"  he  invited.  "La 
Senorita  Reinita  awaits  you." 

"I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  snapped  Kendric.  "I 
am  going  outside  for  a  smoke  and  you  can  tell  your 
lady  queen  so  with  my  compliments." 

But  the  man  stood  in  front  of  him,  shaking  his 
head  dubiously.  He  looked  distressed.  In  his  simple 
mind  orders  from  Zoraida  were  orders  absolute,  and 


i;6  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

yet  such  largesse  as  Jim's  bought  respect  and  some- 
thing akin  to  affection. 

"Later  you  will  smoke  outside,  sefior,"  he  urged. 
"Now  it  would  be  best — oh,  surely,  best,  sefior! — to 
follow  me  to  La  Senorita," 

Jim  shoved  by  him  toward  the  door.  The  fellow 
looked  a  trifle  uncertain,  his  small  calibre  brain  con- 
fused by  two  contending  impulses.  But  in  an  instant 
long  habit  and  an  old  fear  that  was  greater  than  his 
new  liking,  asserted  themselves.  He  slipped  between 
Kendric  and  the  door  and  at  his  glance  the  other  serv- 
ant joined  him.  The  two  glanced  at  each  other  and 
then  at  Kendric' s  set  and  determined  face  and  then 
looked  swiftly  down  the  long  hallway  behind  them. 
This  look  was  eloquent  and  Kendric  guessed  its  mean- 
ing; that  way  had  their  companion  gone  hastily  when 
Zoraida  had  left;  that  way,  perhaps,  would  he  be  re- 
turning presently  with  others  of  her  hireling  pack  at 
his  heels. 

"Stand  aside,"  commanded  Jim,    "I'm  on  my  way." 

They  were  stalwart  men  and  they  did  not  stand 
aside.  Rather  they  stepped  closer  together,  shoulder 
to  shoulder,  grim  in  their  stubborn  obedience  to  the 
orders  they  had  been  given.  Sick  of  waiting  and 
words  and  obstructions,  Kendric  bore  down  on  them, 
vowing  to  go  through  though  they  might  raise  an  out- 
cry and  double  their  strength.  They  were  ready  for 
him  and  stood  up  to  him.  But  their  impulse  of  obedi- 
ence and  routine  duty  was  a  pale  weak  motive  before 
his  rage  at  eternal  hindrance.  He  charged  them  like 
a  mad  bull ;  he  struck  to  right  and  left  with  the  mighty 
blows  of  lusty  battle- joy,  and  though  they  struck  back 
and  sought  to  grapple  with  him  he  hurled  one  of  them 
against  the  wall  with  a  bleeding  mouth  and  sent  the 
other  toppling  backward,  crashing  to  the  floor  in  the 


A  DIFFICULT  SITUATION  177  ' 

hall.  And  through  he  went,  growling  savagely.  But 
only  to  confront  the  third  man  returning  with  half 
a  dozen  sullen-eyed  half  breeds  at  his  heels,  only  to 
see  beyond  them  the  bright  interested  eyes  of  Zoraida. 

"Call  your  hound  dogs  off,"  he  roared  at  her.  'Tni 
going  through." 

Zoraida  clapped  her  hands. 

"Mitchachos,"  she  commanded  them,  "tame  me  this 
wild  man!  But  no  pistols  or  knives,  mind  you!" 

She  drew  up  dose  to  one  wall  and  watched;  she 
might  have  been  an  excited  child  at  a  three-ring  circus. 
Kendric  found  time  to  marvel  at  her  even  as  he  shot 
by  her,  hurling  the  whole  of  his  compact  weight  into 
the  mass  of  bodies  defying  him  passageway.  And  as 
flesh  struck  flesh,  Zoraida  dapped  her  hands  again 
and  watched  eagerly. 

"One  against  six — seven,"  she  whispered.  "One 
against  nine !"  she  added,  for  already  the  two  men  who 
had  sought  to  hold  Kendric  back  from  the  hallway 
were  up  and  after  him.  "He  is  a  mad  fool — and  yet, 
by  the  breath  of  God,  he  is  a  man!" 

And  a  man's  fight  did  he  treat  her  to,  carried  out 
of  himself,  gone  for  the  moment  the  madman  she  had 
named  him.  It  was  Jim  Kendric's  way  to  fight  in 
silence,  but  now  he  shouted  as  he  struck,  defying  them, 
cursing  them,  striking  as  hard  as  God  had  given  him 
strength,  recking  not  in  the  least  of  blows  received, 
heart  and  mind  centered  alone  on  the  pulsing,  throb- 
bing prayer  to  feel  a  bone  crack  before  him,  to  see  a 
head  snap  back,  to  feel  blood  gush  forth  from  a  bat- 
tered face.  A  man  tripped  him  cunningly  from  the 
side  and  he  all  but  fell.  But  he  struck  back  with  his 
boot  and  steadied  himself  by  hurling  his  toppling  body 
against  a  resisting  body  and  crashed  on.  Yes,  and 
through,  though  they  clutched  at  him  and  dragged 


178  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

after  him!  A  man  hung  to  his  belt  and  he  dragged 
him  four  or  five  steps;  then  he  turned  and  drove  his 
fist  into  the  man's  neck  and  freed  himself  and  bore  on. 
So  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  hall  and  to  a  locked  door 
and  turned  with  his  back  to  the  wall.  And  again 
Zoraida's  hound  dogs  were  in  front  of  him. 

He  laughed  at  them  and  taunted  them  and  reviled 
them.  They  were  nine  men  and  upon  many  of  the 
dark  faces  were  signs  of  his  passing.  And  as  they 
came  closer  there  was  respect  as  well  as  caution  in 
their  look.  They  meant  to  beat  him  down;  in  their 
minds  was  no  doubt  of  the  ultimate  outcome,  for  were 
they  not  nine  to  one?  But  they  had  felt  his  fists  and 
had  no  joy  in  the  memory.  So  they  drew  on  slowly. 

Kendric  watched  them  narrowly.  In  the  eyes  of  the 
nearest  man  he  saw  a  sudden  flickering;  it  flashed 
over  him  that  the  fellow  meant  trickery  and  no  fair 
man-to-man  fight.  He  stood  with  his  back  to  the 
door;  he  saw  the  approaching  man's  eyes  switch  to  it 
briefly.  Then  it  flashed  upon  Kendric  that  he  was  to 
be  attacked  from  behind — 

But  even  as  the  thought  came  and  before  he  could 
leap  aside,  the  door  was  jerked  open  and  from  behind 
he  felt  arms  about  him.  He  struggled  and  strained 
in  a  tensing  grip.  Not  just  one  man  was  there  behind 
him ;  two  at  the  very  least  and  maybe  three.  He  heard 
them  muttering.  Then  the  men  in  front  came  on  in 
a  flying  body  and  with  a  dozen  men  piling  over  him 
Jim  Kendric  at  last  went  down.  And  once  down, 
being  the  man  to  know  when  he  had  played  out  his 
string,  he  lay  still. 

"Will  el  senor  Jim  come  with  me?"  Zoraida  was 
above  him,  smiling  curiously.  "Or  shall  I  have  him 
carried  along  by  my  men?" 


A  DIFFICULT  SITUATION  179 

"I'll  come,"  he  answered  shortly.  "Having  no 
choice.  Call  them  off  before  I  stifle.'* 

Zoraida  ordered,  the  men  fell  back  and  Kendric  rose. 
She  made  a  quick  signal  and  they  filed  out  through 
a  further  door. 

"Come/'  she  said  to  him.  She  caught  up  a  cloak 
which  had  slipped  from  her  shoulders,  a  thing  of 
silken  scarlet,  and  led  the  way  down  the  hall. 

He  followed,  ready  and  eager  for  a  talk  with  her 
which  would  be  the  last.  He  fully  meant  to  make  a 
break  for  the  open  tonight.  And  alone.  He  was 
assuring  himself  that  he  drew  a  vast  pleasure  from 
that  consideration — that  he  was  free  from  now  on  to 
play  out  his  own  hand  in  his  own  way  without  refer- 
ence to  others.  What  he  did  not  admit  to  himself 
was  that  he  was  trumping  up  an  explanation  of  the 
fact  that,  while  he  was  following  Zoraida,  he  was  think- 
ing of  Betty.  He  was  wondering  where  Betty  had 
gone  in  such  a  flurry,  when  he  should  have  been  ask- 
ing himself  where  Zoraida  was  taking  him  and  for 
what  purpose  of  her  own. 


CHAPTER  XV! 

OF  THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  OF  THE  GOLDEN  TEZCUCAN 

HE  supposed  that  Zoraida  was  conducting  him  to 
the  barbaric  chamber  in  which  she  had  received  him 
the  other  evening.  For  she  led,  as  the  little  maid  had 
done,  out  under  the  stars,  along  the  rear  corridor,  into 
the  house  again  by  the  same  door.  Once  more  in  the 
building  they  came  to  that  heavy  door  which  in  time 
was  thrown  open  by  the  evil-looking  Yaqui  with  the 
sinister  weapons  at  his  belt  The  man  bowed  deeply 
as  Zoraida  swept  by  him.  Another  moment  and 
Zoraida.  and  Jim  were  in  the  room  which  appeared 
always  to  be  pitch  black.  But  from  here  on  the  way 
was  no  longer  the  same. 

He  heard  Zoraida's  quiet  breathing  at  his  side.  She 
stood  a  long  time  without  moving,  apparently  waiting 
or  listening,  and  he  stood  as  still.  Then  she  put  out 
her  hand  and  caught  his  sleeve  and  he  followed  her 
again.  Their  footfalls  were  deadened  by  a  thick  car- 
pet; Kendric  could  see  nothing.  Never  a  sound  came  to 
him  save  that  of  their  own  quiet  progress.  They  went 
forward  a  dozen  steps  and  Zoraida  paused  abruptly. 
Another  dozen  steps  and  again  a  pause.  Then  he 
heard  the  soft  jingle  of  keys  in  her  hands ;  lock  after 
lock  she  found  swiftly  in  the  dark  until  she  must  have 
shot  back  five  or  six  bolts ;  a  door  opened  before  them. 
He  could  not  see  it,  since  beyond  was  a  dark  no  less 
impenetrable,  but  caught  the  familiar  creak  of  hinges. 
He  heard  the  door  close  softly  when  they  had  gone 

180 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  181 

through;  he  heard  the  several  bolts  shot  back.  Then 
Zoraida  left  him,  groped  a  moment  and  thereafter  the 
tiny  flare  of  a  match  in  her  upheld  hand  showed  her 
to  him  and,  vaguely,  his  surroundings.  They  stood 
in  a  low-vaulted,  narrow  passageway  through  what 
appeared  to  be  rock. 

Set  in  a  shallow  niche  in  the  wall  was  a  small  lamp 
which  Zoraida  lighted.  She  held  it  high  and  continued 
along  the  passageway.  Now  Kendric  saw  that  a  long 
tunnel  ran  ahead  of  them,  walls  and  ceiling  rudely 
chisseled,  the  uneven  floor  pitching  gently  downward. 
Herein  two  men,  their  elbows  striking,  might  walk 
abreast ;  here  a  man  as  tall  as  Kendric  must  stoop  now 
and  then.  The  tunnel  ran  straight  a  score  of  paces, 
then  turned  abruptly  to  the  right.  Here  was  another 
door  with  its  reenforcement  of  riveted  steel  bars  and 
its  half  dozen  bolts  and  padlocks.  Zoraida  gave  him 
the  lamp  to  hold,  then  produced  a  second  bunch  of 
keys  and  one  after  the  other  opened  the  padlocks. 
The  door  swung  back  noiselessly;  they  went  through, 
Zoraida  closed  it  and  dropped  into  place  the  steel  bars. 

"Doors  and  bars  and  locks  and  keys  enough/' 
mocked  Kendric,  "to  guard  the  treasure  of  the  Monte- 
zumas !" 

She  turned  upon  him  with  her  slow,  mysterious 
smile. 

"And  not  alone  in  doors  and  locks  has  Zoraida  put 
her  faith/'  she  said.  "If  I  had  not  prepared  the  way 
neither  you  nor  another  man,  though  he  held  the  keys, 
could  ever  have  come  so  far !  I  have  been  before  and 
removed  certain  small  obstructions.  Come!  I  will 
show  you  others,  Zoraida's  true  safeguards." 

They  were  in  a  small  square  chamber  faced  with 
oak  on  all  sides  excepting  ceiling  and  floor  which  were 
of  hewn  rock.  The  panels  of  the  walls,  each  some 


182  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

two  feet  wide,  had,  all  of  them,  the  look  of  narrow 
doors,  each  with  its  heavy  latch.  Zoraida  put  her 
hand  to  the  nearest  latch  and  opened  the  door  cau- 
tiously. Kendric  saw  only  a  long,  very  narrow  and 
dark  passageway. 

"Listen/'  commanded  Zoraida. 

He  heard  nothing. 

"Toss  something  down  into  the  passage,"  said  Zor- 
aida. "Anything,  a  coin  if  you  have  no  other  useless 
object  upon  you." 

So  a  coin  it  was.  He  heard  it  strike  and  roll  and 
clink  against  rock.  Then  he  heard  the  other  sound, 
a  dry  noise  like  dead  leaves  rattling  together.  Despite 
him  he  drew  back  swiftly.  Zoraida  laughed  and  dosed 
the  door. 

"You  know  what  it  is  then?" 

He  knew.  It  was  the  angry  warning  of  a  rattle- 
snake; his  quickened  fancies  pictured  for  him  a  dark 
alleyway  whose  floor  was  alive  with  the  deadly  reptiles 
and  he  felt  an  unpleasant  prickling  of  the  flesh. 

"If  you  went  on,"  she  told  him  serenely,  "and  you 
chose  any  door  but  the  right  one — and  there  are  twelve 
doors — you  would  never  come  to  the  end  of  a  short 
hallway.  And,  even  though  you  happened  to  choose 
the  right  door,  it  were  best  for  you  if  Zoraida  went 
ahead.  Come,  my  friend." 

She  opened  another  door  and  stepped  into  the  nar- 
row opening.  Though  he  had  little  enough  liking  for 
the  expedition,  Kendric  followed.  Once  more  he  heard 
a  rustling  as  of  thousands  of  dry,  parched  leaves,  and 
was  at  loss  to  know  whence  came  the  ominous  sound. 
Again  Zoraida  laughed,  saying:  "I  have  been  before 
and  prepared  the  way,"  and  they  went  on.  Then 
came  another  door  with  still  other  bars  and  locks. 
Zoraida  unlocked  one  after  the  other,  then  stood  back, 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  183 

looking  at  him  with  the  old  mischief  showing  vaguely 
in  her  eyes. 

"Open  and  enter,"  she  said. 

He  threw  back  the  door.  But  on  the  threshold  he 
stopped  and  stared  and  marveled.  Zoraida's  pleased 
laughter  now  was  like  a  child's. 

"You  are  the  first  man,  since  Zoraida's  father  died, 
to  come  here,"  she  told  him.  "And  never  another 
man  will  come  here  until  you  and  I  are  dead.  It  is 
a  place  of  ancient  things,  my  friend;  it  is  the  heart 
of  Ancient  Mexico." 

The  heart  of  Ancient  Mexico !  Without  her  words 
he  would  have  known,  would  have  felt.  For  old  in- 
fluences held  on  and  the  atmosphere  of  the  time  of 
the  Montezumas  still  pervaded  the  place.  He  forgot 
even  Zoraida  as  he  stepped  forward  and  stopped  again, 
marveling. 

Here  was  a  chamber  of  colossal  proportions  and 
more  than  a  chamber  in  that  it  gave  the  impression 
of  being  without  walls  or  roof.  And  in  a  way  the 
impression  was  correct  for  straight  overhead  Kendric 
saw  a  ragged  section  of  the  heavens,  bright  with  stars, 
and  at  first  he  failed  to  see  the  remote  walls  because 
of  the  shrubbery  everywhere.  Here  was  a  strange 
underground  garden  that  might  have  been  the  court- 
yard to  an  oriental  monarch's  palace,  a  region  of 
spraying  fountains,  of  heavily  scented  flowers,  of 
berry-bearing  shrubs,  of  birds  of  brilliant  plumage. 
It  was  night ;  the  stars  cast  small  light  down  here  into 
the  depths  of  earth;  and  yet  it  was  some  moments 
before  the  startled  Kendric  asked  himself  the  ques- 
tion: "Where  does  the  full  light  come  from?"  And 
it  was  still  other  moments  before  he  located  the  first 
of  the  countless  lamps,  lamps  with  green  shades  lost 
behind  foliage,  lamps  set  in  recesses,  lamps  everywhere 


184  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

but  cunningly  placed  so  that  one  was  bathed  in  their 
light  without  having  the  source  of  the  illumination 
thrust  into  notice. 

That  here,  at  some  long  dead  time  of  Mexican 
history,  had  been  the  retreat  of  some  barbaric  king 
Kendric  did  not  doubt  from  the  first  sweeping  glance. 
He  knew  something  of  the  way  in  which  the  ancient 
monarchs  had  builded  pleasure  palaces  for  their  lux- 
urious relaxation;  how  whole  armies  of  slaves,  cap- 
tured in  war,  were  set  at  a  giant  task  like  other  cap- 
tives in  older  days  in  Egypt ;  he  knew  how  thousands, 
tens  of  thousands  of  such  poor  wretches  hopelessly 
toiled  to  build  with  their  misery  places  of  flowers  and 
ease;  how  to  celebrate  many  a  temple  or  palace  com- 
pleted these  poor  artificers  in  a  mournful  procession 
of  hundreds  or  thousands  as  the  dignity  of  the  en- 
deavor required,  went  to  the  sacrifice.  Now,  standing 
here  at  Zoraida' s  side  in  this  great  still  place,  these 
thoughts  winged  to  him  swiftly,  and  for  the  moment 
he  felt  close  to  the  past  of  Mexico. 

"What  was  once  the  country  place  of  Nezahual- 
coyotl,  the  Golden  King  of  Tezcuco,"  said  Zoraida, 
"is  now  the  favorite  garden  of  Zoraida.  For  the  great 
Nezahualcoyotl  captive  workmen,  laboring  through  the 
days  and  nights  of  many  years,  builded  here  as  we 
see,  my  friend.  Here  he  was  wont  to  come  when  he 
would  have  relief  from  royal  labor  and  intrigue,  to 
shut  himself  up  with  music  and  feasting  and  those  he 
loved.  Here  he  came,  be  sure,  with  the  beloved  prin- 
cess whom  he  ravished  away  from  the  old  lord  of 
Tepechpan.  And  here  she  remained  awaiting  him  when 
he  returned  to  the  royal  place  at  Tezcotzinco.  And 
here  were  placed,  four  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  the 
ashes  of  the  golden  king  and  of  his  beloved  princess — 
and  here  they  remain  until  this  night.  Come,  Sefior 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  185 

Americano;  you  shall  see  something  of  Zoraida's 
garden  which  after  Nezahualcoyotl  came  in  due  time  to 
be  Montezuma's  and  after  him,  Guatamotzin's." 

Kendric  found  himself  drawn  out  of  his  angry 
mood  of  a  few  minutes  past,  charmed  out  of  himself 
by  his  environment.  Following  Zoraida  he  passed 
along  a  broad  walk  winding  through  low  shrubs  and 
lined  on  each  side  with  uniform  stones  of  various 
colors  that  were  like  jewels.  These  boundaries  were  no 
doubt  of  choice  fragments  of  finely  polished  chalce- 
dony and  jasper  and  obsidian;  they  were  red  and  yel- 
low and  black  and,  at  regular  intervals,  a  pale  ex- 
quisite blue  which  in  the  rays  of  the  lamps  were  as 
beautiful  as  turquoises.  They  passed  about  a  screen 
of  dwarf  cedars  and  came  upon  a  tiny  lakelet  across 
which  a  boy  might  have  hurled  a  stone ;  in  the  center, 
sprayed  by  a  fountain  that  shone  like  silver,  was  a  life- 
sized  statue  in  marble  representing  a  slender  graceful 
maiden. 

"The  beloved  princess,"  whispered  Zoraida. 

They  went  on,  skirting  the  pool  in  which  Kendric 
saw  the  stars  mirrored.  Now  and  then  there  was  a 
splash;  he  made  out  a  tortoise  scrambling  into  the 
water;  he  caught  the  glint  of  a  fish.  They  disturbed 
birds  that  flew  from  their  hidden  places  in  the  trees; 
a  little  rabbit,  like  a  tiny  ball  of  fur,  shot  across  their 
path. 

Before  them  the  central  walk  lay  in  shadows,  under 
a  vine-covered  trellis.  A  hundred  paces  they  went  on, 
catching  enchanting  glimpses  through  the  walls  of 
leaves.  Here  was  a  column,  gleaming  white,  elabor- 
ately carved  with  what  were  perhaps  the  triumphs  of 
the  golden  king  or  some  later  monarch ;  yonder  the  walls 
of  a  miniature  temple,  more  guessed  than  seen  among 
the  low  trees;  on  every  hand  some  relic  of  the  olden 


i86  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

time.  Suddenly  and  without  warning  amidst  all  of 
this  tender  beauty  of  flowers  and  murmurous  water 
and  birds  and  perfumes  Kendric  came  upon  that  which 
lasted  on  as  a  true  sign  to  recall  the  strange  nature  of 
the  ancient  Aztec,  a  nation  of  refinement  and  culture 
and  hideous  barbarism  and  cruelty;  a  nation  of  epi- 
cures who  upon  great  feast  days  ate  of  elaborately- 
served  dishes  of  human  flesh;  a  people  who,  in  a 
garden  like  this,  could  find  no  inconsistency,  no  clash 
of  discordancy,  in  introducing  that  which  bespoke 
merciless  cruelty  and  death,  a  grim  token  and  reminder 
that  a  king's  palace  was  a  slaughter  house  as  well;  a 
strange  race  whose  ears  were  attuned  to  ravishing 
strains  of  music  and  yet  found  no  breach  of  harmony 
if  those  singing  notes  were  pierced  through  with  the 
shrieks  of  the  tortured  dying.  Just  opposite  the  most 
enchanting  spot  in  these  underground  groves  of  pleas- 
ure was  a  great  pyramidal  heap  of  human  skulls, 
thousands  of  them. 

"The  builders,"  explained  Zoraida  calmly.  "Those 
who  obeyed  the  commands  of  the  Tezcucan  king,  who 
made  his  dream  a  reality,  who  were  in  the  end  sacri- 
ficed here.  Five  priests,  alternating  with  another  five, 
were  unremitting  night  and  day  until  at  last  the  great 
sacrifice  was  complete.  The  records  are  there,"  and 
she  pointed  to  a  remote  corner  of  the  garden  where 
vaguely  through  the  greenery  he  made  out  stone 
columns;  "I  have  seen  them  and  I  have  made  my  own 
tally.  Not  less  than  ten  thousand  captives  expired 
here."  It  struck  Kendric  that  there  was  a  note  of 
pride  in  her  tone.  "Look;  yonder  is  the  great  stone 
of  sacrifice." 

He  drew  closer,  at  once  repelled  and  fascinated.  A 
few  yards  from  the  base  of  the  heap  of  skulls  was  a 
great  block  of  jasper,  polished  and  of  a  smoothness 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  187 

like  glass.  Upon  this  one  after  another  of  ten  thou- 
sand human  beings,  strong  struggling  men  and  per- 
haps women  and  children  had  lain,  while  priests  as 
terrible  as  vultures  held  them,  while  one  priest  of  high 
skill  and  infinite  cruelty  drove  his  knife  and  made  his 
gash  and  withdrew  the  anguished  beating  heart  to 
hold  it  high  above  his  head.  Again  Zoraida  pointed; 
on  the  stone  lay  the  ancient  knife,  a  blade  of  "itztli," 
obsidian,  dark,  translucent,  as  hard  as  flint,  a  product 
of  volcanic  fires. 

Kendric  turned  from  stone  and  knife  and  human 
relics  and  looked  with  strange  new  wonder  at  Zoraida. 
She  claimed  kin  with  the  royalty  of  this  ancient  order; 
perhaps  her  claim  was  just.  He  had  wondered  if  she 
were  mad ;  was  not  his  answer  now  given  him  ?  Was 
she  not  after  all  that  not  uncommon  thing  called  a 
throw-back,  a  reversion  to  an  ancestral  type?  If  in 
fact  there  flowed  in  her  veins  the  blood  of  that  prin- 
cess of  the  golden  king  of  Tezcuco  who  could  have 
smiled  at  the  whisperings  of  her  lord,  and  the  tender 
cadences  of  music  floating  through  the  gardens  his 
love  had  made  for  her,  while  just  here  his  priests  made 
their  sacrifices  and  she,  turning  her  eyes  from  his  ar- 
dent ones,  now  and  then  languorously  watched — was 
Zoraida  mad  or  was  she  simply  ancient  Aztec  or  Toltec 
or  Tezcucan,  born  four  or  five  hundred  years  after  her 
time?  Her  slow  smile  now  as  she  watched  him  and 
no  doubt  read  at  least  a  portion  of  what  lay  in  his 
mind,  was  baffling;  he  might  have  been  looking  back 
through  the  long  dead  years  upon  the  Tezcucan's  prin- 
cess :  in  her  eyes  were  tender  passion  and  a  glint  that 
might  have  been  a  reflection  of  light  from  the  sacri- 
ficial knife. 

Speculation  aside,  here  was  one  point  which  Zoraida 
herself  had  vouched  for:  since  girlhood  she  had  been 


i88  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

accustomed  to  coming  here.  It  would  appear  inevi- 
table that  the  atmosphere  of  the  place  would  have 
deeply  influenced  young  fancies;  that  what  she  was 
now  was  largely  due  to  these  conflicting  influences. 
What  wonder  that  she  saw  nothing  unlikely  in  her 
dreamings  of  herself  as  queen  of  a  newly  created  em- 
pire? All  that  Zoraida  was,  all  that  she  did,  all  that 
she  threatened  to  do,  the  passion  and  the  regal  manner 
and  the  look  of  a  naked  knife  in  her  eyes,  was  but  to 
be  expected. 

Zoraida  led  on  and  he  followed.  Their  way  led 
toward  the  stonework  he  had  glimpsed  through  the 
shrubs  and  vines.  Here  was  a  many-roomed  building, 
walls  richly  carved  into  records  of  ancient  feasts  and 
glories,  battles  and  triumphs.  They  passed  in  through 
a  wide  entrance;  within  the  walls  were  lined  with 
satiny  hardwoods,  the  panels  chosen  with  nice  regard 
to  color  and  grain.  Doors  opened  to  right  and  left 
and  ahead,  giving  views  of  other  chambers  on  some 
walls  of  which  still  hung  ancient  cloths;  there  were 
chairs  and  tables  and  benches  and  chests.  Zoraida 
went  on,  straight  ahead  and  to  the  doorway  of  a  much 
larger,  high-vaulted  chamber.  And  again  was  Ken- 
dric  treated  to  a  fresh  surprise. 

As  she  stood  in  the  door  and  he  looked  over  her 
shoulder,  six  old  men,  evidently  awaiting  her  arrival, 
bent  themselves  almost  to  the  floor  in  a  reverential 
posture  that  expressed  greeting  and  adoration.  Again 
Kendric's  fancies  were  drawn  back  into  ancient  Mexico. 
They  wore  loose  white  cotton  robes;  their  beards  fell 
on  their  aged  breasts ;  in  their  sashes  were  long  knives 
of  itztli,  like  that  upon  the  sacrificial  stone.  They 
might  have  been  the  old  priests  who  sacrificed  for  the 
Tezcucan,  their  existences  prolonged  eternally  here  in 
an  atmosphere  of  antiquity. 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  189 

Zoraida  spoke  and  they  straightened,  and  one  man 
answered.  Kendric  could  not  understand  a  word. 
Then,  shuffling  their  sandaled  feet,  the  six  went  out 
through  a  door  at  the  side. 

"I  thought  you  said/'  said  Kendric,  "that  since  your 
father's  death  no  man  had  entered  here?" 

"And  do  these  six  look  as  though  they  had  come  here 
recently  from  the  outside  world  ?"  she  retorted,  smiling. 
"The  youngest  of  them,  Senor  Jim,  first  came  to  Neza- 
hualcoyotl's  gardens  more  than  sixty  years  ago.  When 
he  was  less  than  a  year  old,  hence  bringing  with  him 
no  knowledge  of  any  other  place  than  this." 

"And  you  mean  that  they  have  never  gone  out  from 
here?" 

"Would  they  thrust  their  heads  through  solid  rock? 
Would  they  tread  along  corridors  carpeted  with  snakes  ? 
Would  they  grow  wings  and  soar  to  the  stars  up  there  ? 
Not  only  have  they  never  gone  out;  they  do  not  so 
much  as  know  that  there  is  an  Outside  to  go  to." 

"But  you  come  to  them !" 

Zoraida  laughed. 

"And  I  am  a  spirit,  a  goddess  to  worship,  the  One 
who  has  always  been,  the  power  that  created  this  spot 
and  themselves!" 

"They  are  captives  and  caretakers  of  a  sort?"  he 
supposed  "But  when  they  are  dead?  Who  then  will 
keep  up  your  elaborate  gardens  ?" 

"Wait.  They  are  returning.  There  is  your 
answer." 

The  six  ancients  filed  back.  Each  man  of  them  led 
by  the  hand  a  little  child,  the  oldest  not  yet  seven  or 
eight.  All  boys,  all  bright  and  handsome;  all  filled 
with  worship  for  Zoraida.  For  they  broke  away  from 
the  old  men  and  ran  forward,  some  of  them  carrying 
flowers,  and  threw  themselves  on  their  knees  and 


190  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

kissed  Zoraida's  gown.  And  then,  with  wide,  wonder- 
ing eyes  they  looked  from  her  to  Jim  Kendric. 

"Poor  little  kids,"  he  muttered.  And  suddenly, 
whirling  wrath  fully  on  Zoraida :  "Where  do  they  come 
from?  Whose  children  are  they?" 

"There  are  mysteries  and  mysteries/'  she  told  him 
coldly. 

"Stolen  from  their  mothers  by  your  damned  brig- 
ands!" he  burst  out. 

She  turned  blazing  eyes  on  him. 

"Be  careful,  Jim  Kendric!"  she  warned.  "Here  you 
are  in  Zoraida's  stronghold,  here  you  are  in  her  hand! 
Is  act  of  hers  to  be  questioned  by  you?" 

She  made  a  sudden  signal.  The  six  little  boys  with- 
drew, walking  backward,  their  round  worshipful  eyes 
glued  upon  their  goddess.  Then  they  were  gone,  the 
old  men  with  them,  a  heavy  door  closing  behind  them. 

"Again  I  did  not  lie  to  you,"  said  Zoraida.  "Since 
though  these  have  come  recently,  they  are  not  yet  men. 
Follow  me  again." 

They  went  through  the  long  room  and  into  another. 
This  time  Zoraida.  thrust  aside  a  deep  purple  curtain, 
fringed  in  gold.  Here  was  a  smaller  chamber,  abso- 
lutely without  furnishings  of  any  kind.  But  Kendric 
did  not  miss  chairs  or  table,  his  interest  being  entirely 
given  to  the  three  young  men  standing  before  him  like 
soldiers  at  attention.  Heavy  limbed,  muscular  fellows 
they  were,  clad  only  in  short  white  tunics,  each  with  a 
plain  gold  band  about  his  forehead.  In  the  hand  of 
each  was  a  great,  two-edged  knife,  horn  handled,  as 
long  as  a  man's  arm. 

"These  came  just  before  my  father  gave  his  keys 
to  Zoraida,"  the  girl  told  him :  "There  are  three  more 
of  them  who  sleep  while  these  guard." 

Again  Kendric  saw  in  the  eyes  turned  upon  them  a 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  191 

sheer  worship  of  Zoraida,  a  wonder  at  him.  Zoraida 
lifted  her  hand ;  the  three  bowed  low.  She  spoke  softly 
and  they  withdrew  slowly  to  the  further  wall,  walking 
backward  as  the  children  had  done.  Then  one  of  them 
lifted  down  the  five  bars  across  a  door,  employing  a 
rude  key  from  his  own  belt.  And  when  he  had  done  so 
and  stepped  aside  Zoraida  with  her  own  keys  in  five 
different  heavy  steel  locks  opened  the  way.  She  swung 
the  door  open  and  Kendric  followed  her.  As  in  the 
adobe  house  here  was  a  place  where  a  curtain  beyond 
the  doorway  hid  from  any  chance  eyes  what  might  lie 
in  this  room.  Only  when  the  door  was  again  shut  and 
locked  did  Zoraida  push  the  curtain  aside.  Another 
match,  another  big  lamp  lighted — and  Kendric  needed 
no  telling  that  he  was  in  an  ancient  treasure  chamber. 

There  were  long  gleaming-topped  tables  of  hard- 
wood ;  there  were  exquisitely  wrought  and  embroidered 
fabrics  covering  them;  strewn  across  the  tables  were 
countless  objects  of  inestimable  value.  Vases  and  pitch- 
ers and  plates  of  hammered  gold;  golden  goblets  set 
with  rich  stones;  ropes  of  silver;  vessels  of  many  curi- 
ous shapes,  some  as  small  as  walnuts,  some  as  large 
as  water  pitchers,  but  all  of  the  precious  metals;  knives 
with  blades  of  obsidian  and  handles  of  gold;  mirrors  of 
selected  obsidian  bound  around  in  gold ;  necklaces,  coro- 
nets, polished  stone  jars  heaped  with  gold  dust.  One 
table  appeared  to  be  heaped  high  with  strange-looking 
books ;  ancient  writings,  Zoraida  told  him,  heiroglyphs 
on  the  mauguey  that  is  so  like  the  papyrus  of  the  Nile. 

"And  look,"  laughed  Zoraida.  "Here  is  something 
that  would  open  the  greedy  eyes  of  your  friend  Bar- 
low." 

She  opened  a  cedar  box  and  poured  forth  the  con- 
tents. Pearls,  pearls  by  the  double  handful,  such  as 
she  had  worn  that  night  at  Ortega's  gambling  house, 


192  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

many  times  in  number  those  which  Barlow  had  de- 
clared would  make  Keadric's  twenty  thousand  dollars 
"look  sick."  In  the  lamplight  their  soft  effulgence 
stirred  even  the  blood  of  Jim  Kendric. 

"When  the  great  Tzin  Guatamo  knew  that  he  would 
die  a  dog's  death  at  the  hands  of  the  conquerors," 
Zoraida  said,  "he  had  as  much  of  the  royal  treasury 
as  he  could  lay  his  hands  on  brought  here.  The 
Spaniards  guessed  and  demanded  to  be  told  the  hiding 
place.  Guatamotzin  locked  his  lips.  They  tortured 
him ;  he  looked  calmly  back  into  their  enraged  eyes  and 
locked  his  lips  the  tighter.  They  killed  him  but  he  kept 
his  secret." 

She  had  mentioned  Barlow,  and  just  now  Kendric's 
thoughts  had  more  to  do  with  the  present  and  the  im- 
mediate future  than  with  a  remote  and  legendary  his- 
tory. 

"So,"  he  said,  "while  Barlow  and  I  made  our  long 
journey  south,  seeking  the  treasure  of  the  Montezumas, 
you  already  had  had  it  safe  under  lock  and  key  for 
God  knows  how  long!" 

"Choose  what  pleases  you  most,  Senor  Jim,"  she 
said.  "That  I  may  make  you  a  rich  gift." 

But  though  for  a  moment  the  glowing  pearls,  the 
gold  and  silver  trinklets  held  his  eyes,  he  shook  his 
head. 

"It  strikes  me,"  he  said  bluntly,  "that  you  and  I 
are  not  such  friends  that  rich  gifts  need  pass  from  one 
to  the  other  of  us." 

"Then  not  even  all  this,"  and  with  a  quick  gesture 
she  indicated  all  of  the  wealth  that  surrounded  him, 
"can  move  you?  Are  you  man,  Jim  Kendric,  or  a 
mechanical  thing  of  levers  and  springs  set  into  a  man's 
form?" 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  J93 

"I  Have  never  had  the  modern  madness  of  lusting  for 
gold;  that  is  all,"  he  told  her. 

"Not  entirely  modern,"  she  retorted,  "since  here  are 
ancient  hoardings ;  nor  yet  entirely  mad,  since  it  is  pure 
wisdom  to  put  out  a  hand  for  the  supreme  lever  of 
worldly  power.  You  are  a  strange  man,  Senor  Jim !" 

"I  am  what  I  am,"  he  said  simply.  "And,  like  other 
men,  content  with  my  own  desires  and  dreamings." 

She  studied  him,  for  a  while  in  open  perplexity, 
then  in  as  frank  a  glowing  admiration.  That  he  should 
set  aside  with  a  careless  hand  that  which  meant  so  much 
to  her,  but  made  of  him  in  her  eyes  a  sort  of  super- 
man. 

"The  thing  to  do/'  said  Kendric  out  of  a  short  silence, 
"is  to  open  your  doors  and  let  me  go  back  to  the  States. 
I  came  here  looking  for  treasure  trove ;  your  claim  ante- 
dates mine  and  I  am  no  highwayman." 

Zoraida  seated  herself  in  a  big  carved  chair  by  the 
long  table  whereon  lay  the  ancient  writings,  folded  like 
fans  and  protected  between  leaves  of  decorated  woods 
of  various  shapes  and  colors. 

"Let  me  tell  you  two  things,  my  friend.  Three, 
rather.  You  saw  the  sky  just  now  and  thought  to 
yourself  that  all  of  my  safeguards  here  would  be  fool- 
ish and  unavailing  if  a  man  sought  the  way  to  make 
his  entrance  from  above  ?  Be  sure  the  way  is  guarded 
there,  too.  Above  us  towers  Little  Quetzel  Hill,  which 
is  a  long  dead  volcano;  the  hole  you  saw  was  in  the 
bottom  of  the  cone.  If  a  man  sought  to  come  to  it, 
first  he  must  climb  a  steep  and  dangerous  mountain 
flank.  The  old  kings  did  not  forget  so  obvious  a 
thing.  Captives  toiled  up  there  while  their  fellows 
burrowed  down  here;  the  hazardous,  way  through  in- 
finite labor  continuing  through  many  years,  was  made 
infinitely  more  hazardous.  There  are  balanced  rocks 


194  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

of  a  thousand  tons'  weight  that  are  secure  in  the  out- 
ward seeming,  placed  to  hurl  to  destruction  the  ad- 
venturer who  sets  an  unwary  foot  on  them;  there  is  a 
spring,  and  it  is  death  to  drink  of  it;  there  are  pits 
for  a  man  to  slide  down  into  and  in  the  bottoms  of 
these  pits  are  countless  venomous  snakes;  there  are 
traps  set  such  as  men  of  our  time  know  nothing  of. 
There  have  been  chance  travelers  up  yonder  at  infre- 
quent intervals  and  for  every  such  traveler  there  has 
been  a  death  so  that  the  mountain  bears  an  evil  name. 
And,  further,  should  a  hardy  spirit  once  win  to  the 
hole  in  the  bottom  of  the  volcano's  cone  and  find  the 
way  to  lower  himself  hundreds  of  feet  into  the  gardens, 
there  is  always,  night  and  day,  one  of  Zoraida's  guards 
at  the  spot  where  he  must  descend,  and  that  guard, 
night  and  day,  is  armed  and  eager  to  grapple  with  a 
devil  whom  he  has  been  told  to  expect  soon  or  late." 

"I  have  told  you,"  said  Kendric,  "that  I  have  no 
wish  to  steal  that  which  is  another's." 

"One  thing  I  have  told  you;  here  is  another.  I 
speak  it  frankly  because  I  may  gain  by  it  and  am  not 
in  the  least  afraid  of  losing,  since  your  destiny  lies 
in  my  hands!  It  is  that  only  a  portion  of  the  great 
treasure  is  here  with  us;  another  portion  was  hidden 
outside."  She  put  her  hand  on  one  of  the  tinted  manu- 
scripts. "The  tale  is  here.  The  treasure  bearers  were 
trapped  in  the  mountains  by  the  Spanish;  they  had  no 
time  to  come  here.  One  by  one  they  were  killed.  They 
hid  much  gold  where  they  must.  That  is  the  'loot'  of 
which  your  friend  Barlow  speaks;  that  is  the  treasure 
which  the  Spanish  priests  knew  of  and  held  accursed. 
And  that,  Sefior  Jim,  I  would  add  to  what  I  have 
here!" 

She  amazed  him.  Her  eyes  glittered,  the  fever  of 
gold  lust  was  in  her  blood.  With  all  this  hers — his 


THE  ANCIENT  GARDENS  195 

eye  swept  the  wealth-laden  tables  and  chests — she  still 
coveted  gold,  other  gold! 

"The  third  thing,"  said  Zoraida  sharply,  "that  you 
may  understand  why  I  mention  to  you  the  second,  is 
this :  You  will  never  go  free  until  I  say  the  word ! 
And  I  shall  never  say  the  word  until  you  and  I  have 
brought  the  rest  and  placed  it  here!" 

So  there  was  other  treasure !  Like  this,  rich, 
wrought  vessels,  fine  gold,  pearls  perhaps!  And 
Zoraida  did  not  yet  know  where  it  was;  Barlow  had 
had  enough  sense  to  keep  his  mouth  closed.  Jim  Ken- 
dric's  thoughts  flew  back  and  forth  rapidly ;  the  strange 
thing  was  that  at  a  time  like  this  the  vision  which 
shaped  itself,  vivid  and  clear  cut  in  his  mind,  was  of 
little  Betty  Gordon  with  a  double  string  of  pearls 
around  her  throat! 

•"Of  what  are  you  thinking ?"  demanded  Zoraida 
sharply.  She  had  been  watching  him  keenly.  "There 
is  a  look  in  your  eyes " 

For  an  instant  she  almost  dared  think  that  that 
look  was  for  her;  Jim  flushed.  Zoraida's  black  brows 
gathered,  her  eyes  went  as  deadly  cruel  as  ever  were 
the  eyes  of  her  ancient  forebears  though  they  watched 
the  priests  at  the  sacrificial  stone. 

"You  think  of  her!"  she  cried  angrily.  She  stamped 
upon  the  stone  floor,  she  clenched  her  hands  and  lifted 
them  high  above  her  head  in  a  sudden  access  and 
abandon  of  rage.  "You  think  that,  having  made  mock 
of  me,  you  shall  turn  to  her?  Fool!  Seven  times  ac- 
cursed fool!  I  will  show  you  the  doll-faced,  baby-eyed 
girl — and  you  will  see,  too,  what  fate  I  have  reserved 

for  her.  To  cross  the  path  of  Zoraida  means 

But  what  are  words  ?  You  shall  see !" 

With  a  strange  sick  sinking  of  his  heart  Kendric 
followed  her,  forgetting  the  treasure  about  him. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

HOW  TWO,  IN  THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS,  WATCHED 
DISTANT   HAPPENINGS 

AN  oppression  such  as  he  had  never  known  fell  upon 
Kendric.  Nor  was  the  depressing  emotion  an  emana- 
tion alone  of  his  growing  dread  on  Betty's  account ;  the 
atmosphere  of  the  place  through  which  he  moved  be- 
gan to  weigh  him  down,  to  crush  the  spirit  within  him. 
They  left  the  treasure  chamber  which  was  six  times 
doubly  locked  after  them.  They  went  through  the 
ancient  empty  rooms  and  out  into  the  gardens.  Ken- 
dric, looking  up,  saw  the  small  ragged  patch  of  sky 
and  felt  as  though  upon  his  own  soul,  stifling  him, 
rested  the  weight  of  the  hollow  mountain.  To  him  who 
loved  the  fresh,  wind-swept  world,  the  open  sea  with 
its  smell  of  clean  salt  air,  the  wide  deserts  where  the 
sunshine  lay  everywhere,  this  pleasure  grove  of  a  long 
dead  royalty  was  become  musty,  foul,  permeated  with 
an  aura  of  a  great  gilded  tomb.  His  sensation  was 
almost  that  of  a  drowning  person  or  of  one  awaking 
from  a  trance  to  find  himself  shut  in  the  narrow  con- 
fines of  a  buried  coffin.  The  air  seemed  heavy  and 
impure;  he  fancied  it  still  fetid  with  all  the  blood  of 
sacrificial  offerings  which  the  ravening  soil  had  drunk. 

But  he  knew  that  now  was  no  time  for  sick  fancies 
and  he  shook  them  off  and  bent  his  mind  to  the  present 
crisis.  Zoraida  was  retracing  the  steps  which  had  led 
them  here;  she  had  spoken  of  Betty.  It  was  likely 
then  that  they  were  returning  through  the  long  passage- 

196 


THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS     197 

ways  to  the  house.  Dark  hallways  fo  thread,  the  dark 
mind  of  his  guide  to  seek  to  read.  Now,  while  dark- 
ness outdoors  was  well  enough,  the  black  gloom  of  a 
maze  at  any  corner  of  which  Zoraida  might  have 
placed  one  or  a  dozen  of  her  hirelings,  had  little  lure 
for  him.  She  did  not  mean  to  let  him  go  free;  she 
had  kept  him  all  day  immured  in  his  own  room;  she 
would  no  doubt  seek  to  lock  him  up  again. 

"It's  tonight  or  never  to  make  a  break  for  it,"  he 
decided  as  he  followed  her. 

They  were  passing  the  block  of  jasper,  the  ancient 
stone  of  sacrifice.  Zoraida  went  by  first;  Kendric  was 
passing  when  an  impulse  prompted  him  to  put  out  a 
sudden  hand  for  the  keen  edged  knife  of  obsidian.  He 
slipped  it  into  his  belt  and  hid  the  haft  with  his  coat. 
If  it  came  to  an  ambush,  to  an  attack  in  the  dark,  a 
revolver  bullet  might  fly  wild  while  the  wide  sweep  of 
a  knife  blade  would  somehow  find  a  sheath  in  some- 
thing more  palpable  than  thin  air. 

They  went  on,  returning  along  the  way  they  had 
come.  When  the  gardens  of  the  golden  Tezcucan  were 
behind  them  and  a  door  barred  Kendric  experienced  a 
sense  of  relief,  even  though  the  tunnels  were  ahead  of 
him.  He  kept  close  to  Zoraida,  prepared  for  any  sort 
of  trickery  and  with  no  desire  to  have  her  whisk  sud- 
denly through  a  door  somewhere  and  slam  it  in  his 
face.  His  one  urgent  prayer  was  for  a  breath  of  the 
open;  just  then  the  consummation  of  human  happiness 
seemed  to  him  to  be  freedom  on  horseback  somewhere 
out  in  the  mountains  with  the  whole  of  the  wide  starry 
sky  generously  roofing  the  world.  He  thought  of 
Betty — and  he  thought,  too,  of  the  six  little  boys 
doomed  to  count  themselves  happy  back  yonder  where 
at  most  the  sun  shone  down  upon  them  a  few  minutes 
of  the  day. 


198  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Never  once  did  Zoraida  turn,  not  once  did  she  speak 
as  they  hastened  on.  What  little  he  saw  of  her  face 
where  there  was  lamplight  showed  him  hard  set  mus- 
1  cles.  It  last  they  were  again  in  the  house  which  was 
hushed  as  though  untenanted  or  as  though  its  occupants 
were  asleep  or  dead.  He  could  fancy  Bruce  in  some 
remote  room,  tricked  by  some  false  message  of  Zo- 
raida's,  eagerly  expecting  her,  hungering  for  her  lying 
explanations;  he  could  picture  Barlow,  glowering,  but 
awaiting  her,  too.  Well,  the  time  had  passed  when 
he  could  largely  concern  himself  with  them  and  what 
they  did  and  thought.  Tonight  he  must  serve  himself 
and  Betty.  If  she  would  listen  to  him. 

Presently  he  saw  where  it  was  that  Zoraida  was 
conducting  him.  He  remembered  the  dim  ante-room 
in  which  they  paused  a  moment  while  Zoraida  fastened 
the  door  behind  them;  then,  the  curtain  thrown  aside, 
they  were  again  in  that  barbaric,  tapestry-hung  cham- 
ber in  which,  the  first  night  here,  he  had  been  brought 
before  her.  As  before  the  ruby  upon  the  thin  crystal 
stem  shone  like  a  burning  red  eye. 

Now,  for  the  first  time  since  they  had  turned  away 
from  the  golden  Tezcucan's  treasure  chamber,  was 
Kendric  given  a  full,  clear  view  of  Zoraida's  face. 
During  their  progress  many  thoughts  had  come  and 
gone  swiftly  through  his  mind;  now  as  they  two  stood 
looking  steadily  at  each  other,  he  realized  clearly  that 
one  matter  and  one  alone  had  occupied  her.  No 
abatement  of  cruelty  had  come  into  her  long  eyes;  no 
flush  of  color  had  swept  away  the  cold  whiteness  of 
her  cheek.  She  was  set  in  a  merciless  determination, 
relentlessly  hard;  the  colorless  face  resulted  from  a 
frozen  heart.  Before  now  Kendric  had  seen  murder 
staring  out  of  a  man's  widened  eyes;  now  he  saw  it 
in  a  woman's. 


THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS     199 

For  the  instant  only  she  had  looked  at  him  as 
though  she  were  probing  into  his  secret  thought  and 
there  swept  over  him  the  old,  disquieting  sensation  that 
each  thought  in  his  mind  lay  as  clear  to  her  look  as  a 
white  pebble  in  a  sunlit  pool.  Then  her  eyes  passed 
on,  beyond  him.  He  turned  and  saw  the  hangings 
parted  at  that  spot  where  Zoraida  had  appeared  to  him 
that  other  time ;  one  of  the  brutish,  squat  forms  which 
Kendric  remembered,  stood  in  the  opening. 

Zoraida  spoke  with  the  man  swiftly,  her  voice  hard 
and  sharp.  A  quick  change  came  into  the  heavy,  thick- 
lipped  face;  the  stupid  eyes  brightened;  the  face  was 
distorted  as  by  some  hideous  anticipation.  Zoraida 
ended  what  she  had  to  say ;  the  man  spoke  gutturally, 
nodding  his  head.  Then  he  dropped  the  curtain  and 
was  gone. 

Zoraida  went  to  her  black  chair  with  the  crystal 
balls  for  feet  and  sat  stiffly,  her  ringed  fingers  tapping 
restlessly  upon  the  wide  arms.  Presently  the  man  re- 
turned, carrying  a  wide  flat  box.  Thereafter,  while 
Zoraida  watched  him  impatiently,  he  occupied  himself 
after  a  fashion  which  Kendric  found  inexplicable. 
From  the  box  the  man  took  a  number  of  rectangular 
mirrors,  fine  clear  glass  framed  with  thin  bands  of 
ebony.  Deftly,  into  a  grove  made  in  the  back  of  each 
mirror,  he  slipped  the  end  of  a  tall  ebony  rod.  Then 
he  rolled  back  the  heavy  rug  from  two  thirds  of  the 
floor.  The  floor  was  of  stone,  laid  fancifully  in  colored 
mozaic;  here  and  there,  seemingly  placed  utterly  at 
random,  were  smooth  round  holes  in  the  stone  blocks. 
Into  each  hole  the  haft  of  one  of  the  rods  was  thrust 
so  that  when  the  man  stepped  back  to  survey  his  handi- 
work there  was  a  little  forest  of  mirrors  on  glistening 
stems  grown  up  in  apparent  lack  of  design,  like  young 
pines  on  a  tableland. 


200  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Then  Zoraida  rose  and  went  from  one  of  the  glasses 
to  another,  turning  them  a  little  to  right  or  left,  ad- 
justing painstakingly,  seeming  to  read  the  meaning  of 
some  fine  lines  scratched  in  the  stone  floor.  Her  eyes 
were  like  a  mad  woman's.  She  herself  moved  her 
chair,  shoving  it  from  the  rug  to  the  bare  floor,  careful 
that  each  supporting  crystal  sphere  rested  exactly  upon 
a  chosen  spot  Her  retainer  handed  her  a  small  stool ; 
she  placed  it  and,  since  it  was  near  the  spot  where  he 
stood,  Kendric  made  out  the  four  crosses  where  the 
four  legs  were  to  go.  Then  Zoraida  went  swiftly  back 
to  her  chair. 

As  she  sat  down  she  called  again  sharply  to  the  squat 
brute  who  served  her.  His  broad  ugly  teeth  showed 
white  in  his  animal  grin;  he  ran  across  the  room  and 
swept  back  the  curtains  draping  the  wall.  They  were 
laced  to  rings  along  the  upper  edge  and  the  rings  ran 
on  a  long  rod.  As  they  were  whipped  back  they  dis- 
closed no  ordinary  wall  but  a  great  expanse  of  mirror 
extending  from  floor  to  ceiling,  from  corner  to  corner. 
When  two  other  walls  were  exposed  they  too  resolved 
themselves  into  clearly  reflecting  surfaces. 

"Clap-trap  again,"  muttered  Kendric,  beginning  to 
feel  a  strange  dread  in  his  heart  and  growing  angry 
with  it  and  determined  that  Zoraida  should  not  guess. 

"Be  seated,"  commanded  Zoraida  sternly.  "If  you 
would  see  what  amusement  is  being  offered  a  friend 
of  yours!" 

One  by  one  the  lamps  were  being  put  out  by  the 
hasty  hand  of  the  fellow  whom  Kendric  began  to  long 
to  strangle;  he  could  hear  a  low  guttural  gurgling  sort 
of  noise  rising  from  the  thick  throat,  issuing  from  the 
monstrous  mouth.  Zoraida  did  not  appear  to  hear  but 
sat  rigid,  waiting.  At  last,  when  all  but  one  opaque 
shaded  lamp  were  extinguished  and  the  room  was  cast 


THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS     aoi 

into  shadowy  gloom,  Kendric,  impelled  by  environ- 
ment, a  curious  dread  and  perhaps  the  will  of  Zoraida, 
sat  down  on  the  stool. 

"Clap-trap,  you  say!"  scoffed  Zoraida,  "Watch  the 
first  mirror!" 

At  first  the  mirror  reflected  nothing  save  the  shad- 
owy room  and  a  vague,  half-seen  line  of  other  mir- 
rors. But  while  Kendric  watched  there  came  a  swift 
change.  Somewhere  a  lamp  had  been  lighted — several 
lamps,  for  there  was  a  brilliant  light.  He  saw  reflected 
what  appeared  to  be  a  small  room  with  a  door  in  one 
wall.  He  saw  the  door  open  and  a  man  come  in;  it 
was  either  the  man  who  just  now  had  obeyed  Zoraida's 
commands  or  his  twin-fellow.  The  man  began  hooking 
together  what  appeared  to  be  several  frames  of  steel 
bars.  Working  swiftly  he  shaped  them  into  a  steel 
cage  hardly  larger  than  to  accommodate  a  man  stand- 
ing. Kendric's  heart  leaped  and  then  stood  still.  He 
remembered  words  which  Juanita,  terrified  by  idle 
threat  from  him,  had  spoken. 

He  sat  like  a  man  in  a  trance.  The  dim  mirrors 
seemed  unreal.  What  he  saw  elsewhere — was  it  a 
reflected  reality  or  was  his  mind  under  the  spell  of 
Zoraida's  ?  Was  she  through  hypnosis  projecting  a  ly- 
ing image  into  his  groping  consciousness?  Absolutely, 
he  did  not  know.  He  drew  his  eyes  away  from  the 
vision  of  that  room  and  turned  them  questioningly 
upon  Zoraida.  Stern  she  was  and  rigid  and  white,  a 
dim  figure  in  that  dim  light  save  alone  for  her  eyes; 
they  burned  ominously,  glowing  like  a  cat's. 

A  quick  shifting  of  the  image  in  the  glass  jerked 
back  his  straying  attention.  The  man  had  completed 
his  brief  labors  with  the  steel  frames  which  now  made 
a  strong  cage;  he  shook  the  bars  with  his  hand  as 
though  trying  them,  and  they  were  firm  in  their  places. 


202  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

He  opened  a  section  which  turned  on  hinges  so  that  a 
narrow  door  swung  back.  Then  he  drew  away  and 
across  the  room.  And  now  the  remarkable  thing  was 
that  though  he  moved  several  paces,  still  he  remained 
in  full  view  at  the  center  of  the  mirror. 

Plainly  in  a  complicated  series  of  reflectors  there 
were  mirrors  which  were  being  turned  as  the  man 
moved,  cunningly  and  skilfully  adjusted  to  his  slow 
progress;  otherwise  would  he  have  passed  out  of  the 
scope  of  Kendric's  vision.  As  it  was,  the  cage  slid 
away  out  of  view,  an  uncanny  sort  of  thing  since  it 
had  the  appearance  of  gliding  under  a  will  of  its  own. 

Presently,  however,  the  man  opened  a  door  in  the 
wall  and  was  gone.  For  an  instant  the  mirror  dark- 
ened; then  the  light  flashed  back  and  Kendric  was 
treated  to  a  broken  procession  of  images  which  set  him 
marveling.  First  he  saw  straight  into  the  heart  of 
the  gardens  of  the  golden  Tezcucan;  he  saw  the  sacri- 
ficial stone;  he  saw  one  of  the  old  men  approach  it 
and  pass  by;  he  saw  the  treasure  chamber.  Again 
he  stared  at  Zoraida,  again  the  fear  was  upon  him 
that  she  had  mastered  his  mind  with  hers,  that  what 
he  fancied  he  saw  was  but  what  she  willed  him  to 
imagine.  For  he  could  not  ignore  the  long  tunneled 
distance  they  had  traversed,  the  dark  passageways,  the 
heavy  doors  with  their  massive  locks.  And  yet  his 
reason  told  him  that  to  a  mind  like  Zoraida's  as  he 
began  to  believe  it,  a  brain  filled  with  ancient  craft 
and  perhaps  a  strain  of  madness,  actuated  by  such 
dark  impulses  as  certainly  must  abide  there,  the  actual 
physical  accomplishment  of  this  sort  of  parlor  magic 
was  a  thing  in  keeping.  There  would  be  small  tube- 
like  holes  through  walls,  angled  with  reference  to  other 
mirrors;  there  would  be  scientific  arrangement;  there 
would  be,  somewhere  in  the  great  house,  a  sort  of 


THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS     203 

operating  room,  a  room  of  mirrors  with  a  trained  hand 
to  manipulate  them.  Perhaps,  with  modern  reflectors, 
she  but  improved  on  some  fancy  of  an  ancient  king 
who  sought  to  guard  himself  against  treachery  or  his 
hoardings  against  the  hand  of  his  treasurers. 

Again  and  again,  as  Kendric  sat  watching,  the  mir- 
rors darkened  and  grew  bright  again,  with  always  a 
new  image.  He  saw  the  room  in  which  he  had  spent 
a  long  day  immured  and  knew  then  that  had  Zoraida 
been  of  the  mind  she  could  have  sat  here  in  her  private 
room  and  have  observed  every  move  he  made.  He 
saw  still  another  room  and  in  it  Bruce  pacing  up  and 
down,  up  and  down,  swinging  suddenly  to  look  eagerly 
at  his  door;  he  saw  Barlow's  back  as  Barlow  stared 
out  of  a  window — somewhere. 

"Thus  Zoraida  knows  what  goes  forward  in  her 
own  house,"  said  Zoraida,  speaking  for  the  first  time. 

Kendric,  struck  with  a  new  thought,  looked  about 
the  room  everywhere,  seeking  to  locate  the  necessary 
opening  in  the  wall  through  which  came  the  reflections 
from  mirrors  in  other  places.  But  the  great  glasses 
covering  three  of  the  walls  presented  what  appeared 
to  be  smooth,  unbroken  surfaces;  where  the  fourth  wall 
was  tapestry-draped  there  was  no  sign  of  an  opening; 
neither  floor  nor  ceiling,  places  offering  no  detail  but 
blurred  with  vague  shadows,  showed  him  what  he 
sought. 

"Watch  closely!"  said  Zoraida. 

Again  it  was  the  small  room  of  the  steel  cage.  The 
savage-looking  man  in  the  short  tunic  was  there  again. 
He  looked  watchful,  tense,  not  altogether  at  his  ease. 
In  one  hand  was  a  heavy  whip;  in  the  other  a  pistol. 
Kendric  thought  of  the  animal  trainers  he  had  seen 
at  circuses.  The  man's  eyes  were  on  the  door  through 
which  he  had  come.  So  vivid  were  old  images  bred 


204  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

now  of  associations  of  ideas  that  Kendric  had  no 
doubt  of  what  small  head  with  fierce  eyes  would  appear 
next;  he  could  prevision  the  lithe  puma  in  its  quick 
nervous  movements,  the  lashing  of  the  heavy  tail  and 
the  glint  of  the  teeth.  And  so  when  he  saw  what  it 
was  that  entered,  he  sat  back  for  a  moment  limp  and 
the  next  sprang  to  his  feet.  It  was  Betty. 

Betty  clothed  strangely  and  with  a  face  dead  white, 
with  eyes  to  haunt  a  man.  She  wore  a  loose  red  robe, 
sleeveless,  falling  no  lower  than  her  ankles;  her  bare 
feet  were  in  sandals.  Her  hair  was  down;  about  her 
brows  was  a  black  band  that  might  have  been  ebony 
or  velvet;  into  it  was  thrust  a  large  white  flower. 

Betty  was  speaking.  Kendric  had  dropped  back 
into  his  chair,  having  lost  sight  of  her  when  he  stood. 
He  saw  that  she  was  speaking  swiftly,  supplicatingly ; 
her  hands  were  clasped;  all  this  he  could  see  but  no 
slightest  sound  came  to  him.  He  could  not  tell  if  she 
were  near  or  far.  He  began  to  realize  the  exquisite 
torture  which  Zoraida  might  offer  a  man  through  her 
mirrors. 

He  saw  the  squat  brute's  wide  grin  that  was  as 
hideous  as  the  puma's  could  be;  all  of  the  teeth  he 
saw  and  they  were  glistening  and  sharp,  unusually 
sharp  for  a  human  being.  And  then  he  saw  Betty 
pushed  forward  though  she  shrank  back  at  first  with 
dragging  feet  and  though  then,  suddenly  galvanized, 
she  fought  wildly.  But  two  big  hands  locked  tight  on 
her  arms  and  as  powerless  as  a  child  of  six  she  was 
thrust  into  the  steel  cage,  the  door  snapped  after  her. 
She  stood  looking  wildly  about  her ;  her  lips  opened  as 
she  must  have  screamed ;  she  dropped  her  face  into  her 
hands.  Kendric  saw  the  white  flower  fall. 

Again  the  man  looked  to  the  door  through  which 
he  and  then  Betty  had  entered  And  now  came  the 


THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS     205 

puma.  It  ran  in,  snarling;  it  was  looking  back  over 
its  shoulder  as  though  someone  had  whipped  it  into 
the  room.  It  saw  another  enemy  armed  with  whip 
and  pistol  and  sidled  off  with  still  greater  show  of 
dripping  fangs.  All  this  in  dead  silence  so  far  as 
Kendric  was  concerned;  never  the  faintest  sound  com- 
ing to  him.  The  whip  was  flung  out  and  snapped,  and 
there  was  no  sound;  the  puma's  teeth  clicked  together 
on  empty  air,  and  no  sound;  Betty,  looking  up, 
shrieked,  and  no  sound.  They  looked  to  be  so  close 
to  Kendric  that  he  felt  as  if  with  one  stride  he  could 
hurl  himself  among  them;  and  yet  he  knew  that  they 
might  be  shut  off  from  him  by  innumerable  walls  and 
locked  and  barred  doors.  He  saw  Betty  so  plainly 
that  until  he  reasoned  with  himself  he  felt  that  she 
must  see  him. 

"A  puma  will  not  attack  a  human  being."  Kendric 
sought  to  speak  as  though  merely  contemptuous  of 
Zoraida's  entertainment.  "They  are  cowardly 
brutes/' 

"The  puma/'  said  Zoraida,  "is  starving.  Further, 
he  has  been  driven  mad  by  men  who  whipped  and  then 
appeared  to  run,  frightened  of  him.  Watch." 

The  man  threatening  the  puma  slipped  out  through 
the  door  behind  him.  The  door  closed.  Betty  and 
the  animal  were  alone.  The  great  cat  lay  down  and 
looked  at  her  with  its  hard,  unwinking  eyes,  only  its 
slow  tail  moving  back  and  forth  like  a  bit  of  mechanism 
clock-regulated.  Presently  the  puma  lifted  its  head 
and  began  a  horrible  sniffing;  it  lifted  itself  gradually 
from  the  floor;  it  drew  a  step  nearer  Betty's  cage  and 
sniffed  again.  Kendric  could  see  Betty  draw  back  the 
few  inches  made  possible  by  the  narrow  confines  of  the 
cage,  could  see  that  again  she  screamed. 

"A  little  fresh  blood  has  been  sprinkled  on  the  floor 


206  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

of  the  cage,"  said  Zoraida.  "A  little  of  it  is  on  the 
gown  she  wears.  It  will  not  be  overlong  to  watch. 
Are  you  growing  impatient?" 

"Are  you  mad  ?"  he  burst  out.  "Good  God,  do  you 
mean  to  let  this  go  on?" 

"Am  I  mad?"  Her  eyes,  slowly  turned  to  his, 
looked  it.  "Perhaps.  Who  that  is  mad  knows  he  is 
mad?  And  who,  my  friend,  is  sane?  Do  I  mean  to 
let  this  go  on?"  She  laughed  at  him,  and  the  sound 
was  as  hard  as  the  tinkle  of  bits  of  jangling  glass. 
"You  have  but  to  be  patient  to  know." 

The  puma  sniffed  again,  again  drew  closer.  Betty 
was  tight  pressed  against  the  far  bars  shutting  her  in, 
and  even  so  had  the  great  cat  thrust  a  claw  fonvard 
she  could  not  withdraw  beyond  the  reach  of  the  ripping 
talons.  The  cat  circled  her.  Always  Betty  turned  with 
it,  her  eyes  upon  its  eyes,  her  eyes  that  were  large  and 
fixed  with  terror. 

"A  puma  is  patient,  more  patient  than  a  man,"  said 
Zoraida.  "It  may  be  an  hour;  it  may  be  all  night 
before  it  strikes.  It  may  be  a  night  and  a  day,  and 
still  another  night  and  day.  Its  hunger  does  not 
diminish  as  time  passes !  Or,"  and  she  shrugged  with 
a  great  showing  of  her  indifference,  "it  may  strike  now, 
at  any  moment.  That  is  one  of  the  things  that  makes 
the  moment  tense  for  that  white- faced  little  fool  in 
there.  Imagine  when  she  is  worn  out,  if  it  lasts  that 
long;  when  sleep  will  no  longer  flee  because  of  terror; 
and  when  I  command  that  the  light  shall  be  extin- 
guished where  she  is!  You  see,  she  must  be  thinking 
all  those  things." 

The  sweat  broke  out  on  Kendric's  forehead,  he  felt 
as  though  ice  ran  in  his  veins.  If  he  only  knew  where 
all  this  was  going  on!  Was  it  above  him  or  below, 
to  right  or  left  ?  Ten  steps  or  a  hundred  yards  away  ? 


THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS     207 

"By  God "  he  shouted.  But  only  Zoraida's  mer- 
ciless laughter  answered  him. 

"I  had  to  choose  between  this  and  the  ancient  stone 
of  sacrifice,"  she  told  him.  "Have  I  not  chosen  well  ?" 

The  puma  had  been  still.  Now  again  it  moved  and 
its  feet  had  quickened,  it  glided  with  ever-increasing 
swiftness,  it  came  close  to  the  steel  bars,  it  showed 
more  of  its  sharp,  tearing,  dripping  teeth. 

"Betty!"  shouted  Kendric.     "I " 

He  knew  that  Betty  could  not  hear,  that  he  could 
do  nothing.  Nothing?  As  the  thought  framed  he 
leaped  to  his  feet  and  in  the  grip  of  such  a  rage  as  even 
he  had  never  known,  hurled  himself  across  the  few 
paces  between  him  and  Zoraida. 

"You  have  the  way  to  stop  this  damned  thing!" 
His  hands,  like  claws,  were  thrust  before  her  face. 
"You  will  stop  it." 

Even  in  his  headlong  rage  there  were  cool  cells  in 
his  brain.  He  saw  the  quick  significant  look  Zoraida 
shot  over  his  shoulder  and  turned;  there  behind  him 
stood  one  of  the  squat  brutes  who  did  her  bidding. 
Kendric  saw  something  in  the  man's  hand  but  did  not 
reck  whether  it  was  gun  or  knife  or  club  or  something 
else.  He  whipped  about  and  struck.  As  the  man 
staggered  under  the  unexpected  blow,  Kendric  snatched 
up  the  heavy  stool  on  which  he  had  been  sitting  and 
struck  again,  so  swift  that  the  blow  landed  while  the 
figure  was  yet  staggering  backward.  The  man  fell, 
stunned,  and  then,  as  quick  as  light,  before  Zoraida 
could  lift  a  hand,  Kendric  was  upon  her  again. 

"Call  off  your  cat !"  he  shouted  at  her. 

She  lifted  her  head  defiantly. 

"Never  has  man  dictated  to  me!"  she  cried  angrily. 
"Here  I  dictate.  If  you  dared  put  a  hand  on  me " 

He  saw  her  own  hand  creeping  out  toward  the 


208  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

table.  What  it  sought  he  did  not  know;  a  hidden  bell, 
perhaps.  Or  a  dagger.  He  remembered  her  swift 
attack  upon  Ortega.  He  seized  her  wrist,  his  fingers 
locked  hard  about  it;  she  struggled  and  he  held  her 
back  in  her  chair.  Suddenly  she  relaxed  and  shrugged 
and  laughed  at  him. 

"You  add  to  the  entertainment!"  she  mocked  him. 
"For,  mind  you,  while  you  make  large  commands,  the 
puma  draws  nearer  and  nearer.  If  you  will,  between 
your  great  commands,  but  glance  into  the  mirror " 

"I  say  you  can  put  a  stop  to  that  infernal  torture," 
he  said  fiercely.  "And  you  will !" 

"Yes?"  she  sneered  at  him.  "And  you  will  make 
me,  perhaps?  You,  a  common  adventurer  will  dictate 
to  Zoraida!" 

For  the  moment  he  felt  powerless  in  face  of  her  cold 
taunting.  But  there  was  too  much  at  stake  for  him  to 
yield  now  to  a  feeling  of  powerlessness.  One  hand 
was  on  her  wrist ;  the  gripping  fingers  of  the  other  shut 
about  the  haft  of  the  ancient  obsidian  knife.  The  old 
knife  of  sacrifice.  His  face  was  white  and  stern, 
his  eyes  no  whit  less  deadly  than  Zoraida's. 

"You  threaten  my  life?"  she  gasped.    "You?" 

He  made  no  answer.  He  was  beyond  speech.  Slowly 
he  lifted  the  great  knife,  slowly  as  in  a  dream  he  set 
the  thin  point  against  the  soft  flesh  of  Zoraida's  throat. 
As  a  tremor  shook  his  hand  Zoraida  whipped  back. 

"You  would  not  dare!    You  would  not  dare!" 

His  hand  was  steady  again.  He  held  her  still,  and 
the  point  of  the  knife  crept  a  hair's  breadth  closer  to 
the  life  within  her.  A  little  more  and  it  would  have 
slipped  into  the  skin  it  was  pricking. 

"You  could  not  do  it,"  she  whispered. 

Then  he  spoke. 

"I  can  do  it."     His  lips  were  dry,  his  voice  very 


THE  LABYRINTH  OF  MIRRORS     209 

harsh.  "You  have  said  that  you  know  me  for  a  man 
of  my  word.  Well,  then,  I  swear  to  you  that  little  by 
little  I'll  drive  that  knife  in  unless  you  set  that  girl 
free." 

Still  she  sought  to  brave  it  out,  sought  to  defy  him ; 
her  eyes,  on  his,  told  him  that  his  will  was  less  than 
hers,  and  that  this  could  never  be.  But  Kendric  knew 
otherwise.  It  was  given  him  to  know  that  if  Betty 
died,  he  did  not  care  to  live.  Like  men  of  his  stamp 
it  was  unthinkable  to  him  that  he  should  lift  his  hand 
against  a  woman.  But  woman  for  the  moment  Zoraida 
was  not.  Fiend,  rather;  reincarnated  savage;  a  thing 
to  stamp  into  the  earth.  What  he  had  said  he  meant. 

He  was  giving  her  time  because  on  her  rested  .Betty's 
fate.  He  pressed  the  knife  a  little  deeper.  So  steady 
was  his  hand,  so  stiff  Zoraida's  body,  so  gradual  the 
increased  pressure,  that  the  knife  point  made  in  the 
white  flesh  a  tiny,  shadow-filled  dimple. 

Now  came  into  Zoraida's  eyes  a  swift  change,  a  look 
which  in  all  of  her  life  had  never  been  there  until 
now.  A  look  of  terror,  of  realization  of  death,  of 
frantic  fear.  She  sought  to  speak,  and  words  failed 
her.  The  knife  pressed  steadily.  A  piercing  scream 
broke  from  her. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

HOW   ONE  WHO   HAS   EVER    COMMANDED   MUST   LEARN 
TO  OBEY 

SUDDENLY  Zoraida  had  become  as  docile  as  a  little, 
frightened  child.  She  shivered  from  head  to  foot. 
She  put  her  two  hands  to  her  throat  where  just  now 
the  point  of  the  knife  had  been. 

"Quick!"  said  Kendric. 

She  rose  in  haste.  A  vertigo  was  upon  h^r  like 
that  dizzy  weakness  of  one  very  sick,  seeking  prema- 
turely to  rise  from  bed.  She  had  experienced  a  shock 
from  which  she  could  rally  only  gradually ;  she  looked 
broken.  Her  eyes  appeared  to  see  nothing  about  her 
but  stared  off  into  the  distance  through  a  veil  of  ab- 
straction. 

"We  will  have  to  go/'  she  said  tonelessly.  "There 
is  no  other  way." 

They  passed  by  the  inert  figure  on  the  floor  and  out, 
Kendric  with  his  left  hand  always  on  her  arm.  Again 
the  knife  was  hidden  under  his  coat,  but  his  fingers 
did  not  release  it. 

"Quick,"  he  said  again. 

So  Zoraida,  obedient  in  this  strange  new  mood  gov- 
erning her,  making  no  effort  to  shake  off  his  hand, 
having  no  thought  to  gainsay  him,  hastened.  In  per- 
haps five  minutes  they  were  unlocking  the  last  door, 
and  Kendric  heard  beyond  the  whining  of  the  puma. 
Kendric  had  had  time  for  thought  during  this  brief 
interval  which  had  seemed  much  longer ;  for  the  present 

210 


HOW  ONE  LEARNS  TO  OBEY        211 

both  his  safety  and  Betty's  would  undoubtedly  depend 
upon  his  keeping  Zoraida  with  him.  So  now,  as  he 
flung  open  the  door,  he  carried  Zoraida  along  into  the 
room. 

At  first  he  did  not  see  the  cat  lying  close  to  the 
cage;  he  saw  only  Betty.  A  little  color  had  come  back 
into  her  cheeks ;  he  saw  the  look  in  her  eyes  before  it 
changed  and  knew  that  to  Betty  had  come  the  time 
when  hope  is  given  up  and  when  death  is  faced.  She 
had  passed  beyond  tears  and  pleading  and  crying  out. 
It  was  given  Kendric  then  to  learn  that  when  the  crisis 
had  come  it  found  in  the  girl's  heart  a  courage  to  sus- 
tain her.  Her  face  was  set,  her  attitude  was  no  longer 
cringing.  In  such  tender  breasts  as  Betty's  have  beat 
the  steady  hearts  of  martyrs. 

When  she  saw  Jim  Kendric  and  Zoraida  standing 
before  her  she  stared  incredulously.  She  was  in  a  daze. 
Her  first  wild  thought,  reflecting  itself  unmistakably 
in  her  wide  eyes,  was  that  they  had  come  to  taunt  her, 
he  and  she  side  by  side.  Then  her  faltering  gaze  left 
Zoraida  and  ignored  her  and  went,  full  of  earnest  ques- 
tioning, to  Jim's  face.  Suddenly,  at  what  she  saw 
there,  the  red  blood  of  joyousness  ran  into  Betty's 
cheeks.  At  moments  like  this  it  is  with  few  words  or 
none  at  all  that  perfect  understanding  comes.  In  a 
flash  his  look  had  told  her  all  that  it  would  require 
many  fumbling  spoken  words  to  repeat  one-half  so 
eloquently. 

The  puma  had  sprung  to  its  feet  but  stood  its  ground. 
The  murderous  eyes  were  everywhere  at  once,  on  Betty, 
on  Jim,  on  Zoraida,  most  of  all  on  Betty ;  the  quivering 
nostrils  widened  and  sniffed;  the  tawny  throat  shook 
with  a  series  of  low  growls.  Jim's  foot  stirred;  the 
cat's  teeth  came  together  with  a  snap. 

With  little  wish  as  Kendric  had  to  create  a  dis- 


212  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

turbance  just  now,  it  was  beyond  his  power  to  withhold 
his  hand  as  he  saw  Betty  draw  back  against  the  walls 
of  her  cage.  In  his  pocket  was  Bruce's  weapon.  Ken- 
drick  jerked  it  out,  and  before  Zoraida's  cry  could  burst 
from  her  lips  and  before  her  hand  struck  his  arm,  he 
drove  a  bullet  into  the  puma's  skull  between  the  hard 
evil  eyes.  The  animal  dropped  in  its  tracks,  with  never 
another  whine. 

As  the  puma  went  down,  Zoraida  winced  as  though 
in  bodily  pain,  as  though  it  had  been  her  flesh  instead 
of  her  cat's  that  had  known  the  deep  bite  of  hot  lead. 
She  looked  from  the  twitching  animal  to  Kendric  like 
one  aghast,  like  one  stupefied  by  what  she  had  seen, 
who  could  not  altogether  believe  that  an  accomplished 
act  had  in  reality  taken  place.  There  was  horror  in 
her  look;  she  recalled  to  him  vividly  though  fleetingly 
a  South  Sea  island  priest  whom  he  had  seen  long  ago 
when  the  savage's  idol  had  been  overthrown  and  cast 
down  into  a  mud  puddle  under  the  palm  trees.  At 
that  moment  Zoraida  might  well  have  been  sister  to 
the  idolater  of  the  South  Seas  or  some  ancient 
Egyptian  priestess  stricken  dumb  at  the  sight  of  a 
sacred  cat  violated. 

But  there  was  Betty.  Jim  jerked  open  the  door  of 
the  cage.  Betty  stumbled  through  and  somehow  found 
herself  in  his  arms.  They  dosed  tight  about  her.  The 
two  turned  to  Zoraida.  She,  white-faced  and  silent, 
watched  them  with  smoldering  eyes.  And  into  those 
eyes,  as  for  a  space  Betty's  heart  fluttered  against  Jim 
Kendric' s  breast,  came  for  the  first  time  since  the  knife 
had  been  withdrawn  from  her  throat,  a  quickening  of 
purpose,  a  glint  as  of  a  covered  fire  breaking  through. 

"Come,  Betty/'  said  Jim  quickly.  "We  are  going 
to  clear  out  of  this,  you  and  I.  Right  now !" 


HOW  ONE  LEARNS  TO  OBEY        213 

He  noted  a  slight  restless  stirring  of  Zoraida's  foot 
and  stepped  to  her  side,  his  hand  again  on  her  arm. 

"We  are  not  through  with  you  yet,"  he  told  her. 
"Miss  Gordon  will  want  some  clothes." 

"In  her  room,"  agreed  Zoraida.     "Come/' 

Had  she  delayed  her  answer  the  fraction  of  a  second 
he  might  have  followed  her,  suspecting  nothing.  But 
as  it  was  he  remarked  on  her  eagerness;  Zoraida  was 
passionately  set  on  treachery  and  he  sensed  it. 

"No,"  he  answered.  "From  here  we  go  straight 
out  into  the  open."  Zoraida  had  yielded  to  the  pres- 
sure on  her  arm  as  though  to  continue  in  her  new  role 
of  implicit  obedience.  But  now  his  distrust  was  wide 
awake.  There  may  have  been  a  slight  involuntary 
stiffening  of  her  muscles,  hinting  at  rebellion;  there 
was  something  which  warned  him  in  the  look  she  sought 
to  veil.  "What  clothes  Betty  needs  you  can  give  her. 
Here  and  now." 

"Oh!"  cried  Betty,  with  a  look  of  abhorrence  and  a 
shudder.  "I  couldn't " 

"It  can't  be  helped,"  he  retorted.  And  to  Zoraida : 
"She'll  want  shoes  and  stockings." 

The  look  he  had  then  from  Zoraida  was  one  of  utter 
loathing  and  at  last  of  unhidden  lust  for  his  undoing. 
But  after  it  she  bestowed  on  him  a  slow  contemptuous 
smile  and  again  she  obeyed.  Her  little  shoes  she 
kicked  off;  she  drew  off  her  stockings  and  he  handed 
them  to  Betty. 

"Zoraida  goes  barefooted  at  a  man's  command!" 
A  first  note  of  laughter  was  in  Zoraida's  voice.  "What 
more?  Am  I  to  disrobe  in  a  man's  presence?" 

"Your  cloak,"  he  muttered.    "We'll  make  that  do." 

The  cloak  Betty  accepted  and  threw  about  her  shoul- 
ders. The  shoes  and  stockings  she  held  a  moment, 
looking  at  them  with  repulsion  in  her  eyes;  they  were 


214  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

too  intimate,  they  had  come  too  lately  from  Zoraida 
and  in  the  end  she  threw  them  down. 

"My  sandals  will  do,"  she  said.  "I  can't  wear  her 
things." 

Kendric  picked  them  up  and  thrust  them  into  his 
pocket. 

"Later,  then,"  he  said.  "God  knows  we  can't  be 
choosers.  Now,"  and  again  he  confronted  Zoraida, 
"you  will  show  us  the  way.  Clear  of  the  house.  And 
we'll  want  horses.  One  thing,  mind  you :  It  is  in  my 
thought  that  if  we  allow  you  to  hold  us  here  we'll  both 
be  dead  inside  a  few  hours.  I've  no  desire  for  that 
sort  of  thing.  The  issue  is  clear  cut,  isn't  it?" 

Zoraida  merely  lifted  her  brows  at  him. 

"If  it  becomes  a  question  of  your  life  or  ours,"  he 
told  her  sternly,  "I'd  naturally  prefer  it  to  be  yours! 
Is  that  plain  enough?  For  once,  young  woman,  it's 
up  to  you  to  play  square.  Now,  go  ahead." 

They  went  out  silently  through  the  door  which  had 
given  them  entrance  into  this  ugly  room,  Zoraida  lead- 
ing the  way,  Kendric  holding  close  at  her  side  and 
allowing  her  the  sight  of  the  obsidian  knife  held  under 
his  coat  with  the  point  within  an  inch  of  her  side, 
Betty  close  behind  him.  Kendric  felt  a  crying  need 
of  haste.  For  a  few  minutes  he  knew  that  the  fear 
of  death  had  been  heavy  on  the  spirit  of  Zoraida,  par- 
alyzing her  will,  freezing  up  the  current  of  her  thought. 
But  she  was  still  Zoraida,  essentially  fearless;  her 
characteristic  fortitude  would  not  be  long  in  reinstating 
itself  in  her  heart;  the  mental  confusion  was  swiftly 
being  replaced  by  the  activity  of  resurging  hatred.  He 
must  be  watchful  of  every  corner  and  door,  most  of 
all  watchful  of  her. 

Thus  it  was  Kendric's  hand,  once  bolts  were  shot 
back,  that  threw  open  each  door,  as  he  held  himself 


HOW  ONE  LEARNS  TO  OBEY        215 

in  readiness  to  spring  forward  or  back.  But  as  ap- 
peared customary  here  the  house  seemed  deserted.  He 
thanked  his  stars  that  the  fellow  he  had  struck  down  in 
Zoraida's  room  had  fallen  hard.  Not  even  the  dull 
explosion  of  the  pistol  just  now  had  brought  inquiry; 
no  doubt  the  thick  walls  had  deadened  the  sound. 
After  what  seemed  a  long  time  they  came  into  the 
wide  dimly-lighted  hall.  The  door  giving  entrance  to 
the  patio  was  open;  under  the  stars  the  little  fountain 
played  musically. 

"Out  this  way,"  commanded  Kendric.  "Then 
around  to  the  front  of  the  house.  And  if  we  meet 
anyone,  Zoraida,  you'd  best  think  back  a  few  minutes 
before  you  start  anything." 

There  was  no  one  in  the  patio  and  they  went  through 
swiftly  and  out  at  the  far  side  into  the  garden.  Ken- 
dric filled  his  lungs  with  the  sweet  air  that  was  be- 
ginning to  grow  cool.  The  glitter  of  the  stars  was 
to  him  like  a  hope  and  a  promise.  Never  had  he 
been  so  sick  of  four  walls  and  a  smothering  roof.  Now 
the  musty  gardens  of  the  golden  king  seemed  to  him. 
infinitely  far  away,  a  thousand  times  farther  removed 
than  the  dancing  lights  in  the  heavens. 

With  his  hand  gripping  Zoraida's  forearm  they 
skirted  the  house.  Presently  they  came  to  the  front 
driveway  and  Zoraida  must  have  wondered  as  he 
forced  her  to  go  with  him  to  a  clump  of  bushes.  He 
stooped,  groped  about  a  moment,  and  then  straightened 
up  with  a  little  grunt  of  satisfaction;  the  rifle  was  in 
his  hands. 

"Now  the  horses,"  he  said,  and  the  three  walked 
out  into  the  starlight  and  toward  the  double  gates. 
"Whatever  you  will  say  will  go  with  the  men  out  there. 
And  be  sure  you  say  we  are  to  be  allowed  to  go  for 
a  ride." 


2i6  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Zoraida  did  not  answer  and  Kendric  wondered,  not 
without  uneasiness,  what  she  would  say.  His  grip 
tightened  on  her  arm.  She  did  not  appear  to  notice. 

The  watch  towers  on  either  side  of  the  gate  were 
lighted  as  usual.  From  one  came  the  low  drone  of 
two  men's  voices;  the  other  was  silent.  No  other 
sound  save  that  of  the  rattle  of  bit-chains  as  a  horse 
somewhere  shook  its  head. 

A  man  appeared  from  nowhere,  with  the  air  of 
having  suddenly  materialized  out  of  the  atmosphere. 
He  came  close,  made  out  that  one  of  the  three  was 
Zoraida  and  backed  away,  sweeping  off  his  hat.  They 
came  to  the  gates  which  the  newly  risen  figure  threw 
open;  they  went  through,  Kendric  having  the  air  of  a 
man  lending  his  arm  to  a  lady,  Betty  with  the  cloak 
drawn  close  about  her,  following.  They  were  out! 
Now  nearer  than  ever  came  the  friendly  stars,  sweeter 
than  ever  was  the  night  air.  Kendric  looked  swiftly 
about,  taking  note  of  the  darkness  lying  close  to  the 
earth,  thanking  God  that  there  was  no  moon.  If  one 
could  keep  for  a  little  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall,  if 
then  he  could  get  clear  of  the  house  and  out  into  the 
fields  lying  at  the  rear,  it  was  but  a  short  run  to  the 
mountains 

They  had  turned  and  already  were  under  one  of  the 
watch  towers,  the  one  whence  came  the  men's  voices. 
The  saddled  horses  stood,  tethered  to  rings  set  in  the 
wall.  Zoraida  turned  toward  Kendric  and  in  the  star- 
light her  eyes  shone  strangely,  bright  with  mockery. 
But  tonight  was  Jim  Kendric's,  and  he  was  still  bent 
on  playing  out  his  hand. 

"Que  hay,  amigos?"  he  called  familiarly  to  the  men 
in  the  square  tower,  his  voice  sounding  careless  and 
indifferent.  "La  Senorita  is  here.  She  wants  horses." 

A  head  appeared  at  the  little  opening  that  served 


HOW  ONE  LEARNS  TO  OBEY       217 

for  window  above,  a  hat  was  doffed  with  exaggerated 
deference,  a  second  uncovered  head  was  thrust  out. 
Kendric  stepped  back  half  a  pace  so  that  they  could  see 
plainly  that  it  was  Zoraida, 

"Bueno"  said  one  of  the  two  men.  "V'wa  la 
Senorita!" 

Already  Kendric  was  undoing  the  two  tie  ropes.  He 
regretted  the  necessity  of  stepping  two  paces  from 
Zoraida's  side,  but  realized  that  inevitably  that  neces- 
sity must  come  soon  or  late  and  he  lost  no  time  griev- 
ing over  it.  The  horses  were  at  hand,  saddled  and 
bridled;  Betty  was  with  him;  the  night  was  too  dark 
for  eyes  to  watch  from  a  distance ;  the  two  men  within 
Zoraida's  call  were  still  up  in  the  tower.  He  was 
taking  his  chance  now  and  he  knew  it ;  Zoraida's  period 
of  obedience  and  inactivity  was  no  doubt  near  at  end. 
Well,  his  luck  had  befriended  him  thus  far  and  for 
the  rest  it  was  up  to  Jim  Kendric,  And  they  were  out 
in  the  open! 

Thus  he  was  ready  for  Zoraida's  outcry.  He  saw 
her  whip  back  so  as  to  be  beyond  the  sweep  of  his 
arm,  he  heard  her  crying  out  wildly,  commanding  her 
retainers  to  stop  the  flight  of  her  prisoners,  shrieking 
at  them  to  shoot,  to  shoot  to  kill ! 

"Betty !"  cried  Jim.     "Quick !" 

Then  he  saw  that  Betty,  too,  had  been  ready.  Just 
how  she  managed  it,  encumbered  as  she  was  with 
Zoraida's  cloak,  he  did  not  know.  But  she  was  already 
in  one  of  the  saddles. 

"Jim !"  she  cried  wildly.    "Run !" 

He  went  up  to  the  back  of  the  other  horse,  his 
rifle  in  his  hand.  And  as  he  struck  saddle  leather  his 
horse  and  Betty's  shot  forward  and  away.  He  heard 
Zoraida's  scream  of  command,  breaking  with  rage. 
He  heard  men's  voices  shouting  excitedly;  there  came 


218  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

the  well-remembered  shrilling  of  a  whistle  and  then 
drowning  its  silver  note  the  popping  of  rifles. 

'There'll  be  a  dozen  of  them  in  the  saddle  and  after 
us!"  Jim  shouted  at  Betty.  "Swing  off  to  the  right. 
We've  got  to  make  for  the  mountains.  Ride,  girl! 
Ride,  Betty !  Ride  for  all  that's  in  it !" 

He  glanced  over  his  shoulder.  Only  a  flare  here  and 
there  as  a  rifle  spat  its  red  threat,  that  and  a  blur  of 
running  figures.  As  yet  no  horseman  following  them. 
That  would  take  another  minute  or  two.  He  looked 
at  Betty.  She  rode  astride  and  well;  no  need  to  bid 
her  make  haste.  She  leaned  forward  in  the  saddle, 
the  loose  ends  of  her  rains  whipping  back  and  forth 
regularly,  lashing  her  horse's  shoulders.  He  looked 
ahead.  There  the  mountains  rose  black  and  without 
detail  against  the  sky.  He  looked  up;  the  stars  were 
shining. 

Abruptly,  as  though  at  a  command,  the  rifles  ceased 
firing  after  them.  And,  instead  of  the  explosions  which 
had  concerned  Kendric  little,  came  another  sound  fully 
to  be  expected  by  now  and  of  downright  serious  import. 
It  was  the  scurry  and  race  of  hoofs,  how  many  there 
was  no  guessing.  Pursuit  had  started  and  it  was  cer- 
tain that  the  numbers  of  the  pursuers  would  swell 
swiftly  until  perhaps  a  score  of  Zoraida's  riders  were 
on  their  track.  Kendric  settled  down  to  hard  riding, 
drawing  in  close  to  Betty's  side. 

"We  got  a  couple  of  minutes  on  them,"  he  called 
to  her.  "That  means  we're  ahead  of  them  between  a 
quarter  and  a  half  mile.  In  the  dark  that's  something." 

Betty  made  no  answer.  They  sped  on.  He  tried 
to  see  her  face  but  her  hair  was  flying  wildly.  He 
wondered  if  her  terror  were  freezing  the  heart  in  her. 
His  own  sensation  at  the  moment  was  one  of  a  strange 
sort  of  leaping  gladness.  After  prison  walls,  this 


HOW  ONE  LEARNS  TO  OBEY        219 

rushing  through  the  night  was  like  a  zestful  game. 
He  felt  that  he  had  that  even  break  which  was  ever  all 
that  he  asked.  If  only  Betty  could  feel  as  he  did. 

His  horse  stumbled  and  then  steadied  and  plunged 
on.  The  ground  underfoot  was  rapidly  growing 
steeper  and  more  broken.  The  first  slopes  of  the 
mountains  were  beneath  them.  The  horses,  though 
urged  on,  were  not  making  their  former  speed.  Now 
and  then  dry  brush  snatched  and  whipped  at  the  stir- 
rups; here  and  there  a  pine  tree  stood  up  black  and 
still. 

And  then  Kendric  knew  that  the  riders  behind  were 
gaining  on  them.  Zoraida's  men  would  know  every 
trail  even  in  the  dark,  would  know  all  of  the  cleared 
spaces,  would  thus  avoid  both  brush  and  steeps.  Ken- 
dric turned  in  the  saddle.  He  made  out  dimly  the 
foremost  of  the  pursuers  and  heard  the  man's  shout 
to  his  companions. 

"Betty,"  called  Kendric. 

"Yes  ?"  she  answered,  and  it  struck  him  that  perhaps 
he  had  imagined  her  terror  greater  than  it  actually 
was;  for  her  voice  was  quite  clear  and  even  sounded 
untroubled.  "What  is  it?" 

"In  ten  minutes  or  so  they'll  overhaul  us.  They 
know  the  way  and  we  don't.  Further,  we're  apt  to 
get  a  spill  over  a  pile  of  rocks." 

"Yes,  Jim,"  she  answered.  And  still  her  voice  failed 
to  tremble  as  he  had  thought  it  must. 

"The  old  dodge  is  all  that's  left  us,"  he  told  her. 
"When  I  say  the  word,  pull  up  a  little  and  slide  out  of 
the  saddle.  Let  your  horse  run  on  and  you  duck  into 
the  brush." 

"And  you?" 

"I'm  with  you,  of  course."     And  presently,  when 


220  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

they  were  in  the  shadows  of  the  ever-steepening  moun- 
tain side,  he  called  softly :    "Now !" 

Until  then  he  had  never  done  Betty's  horsemanship 
Justice.  He  saw  her  bring  her  mount  down  from  a 
flying  gallop  to  a  sliding  standstill,  he  saw  her  throw 
herself  from  the  saddle,  he  saw  the  released  animal 
plunge  on  again  under  a  blow  from  the  quirt  which 
Betty  had  snatched  from  the  horn,  the  whole  act  tak- 
ing so  little  time  that  it  hardly  seemed  that  the  horse 
had  stopped  for  a  second's  time.  Kendric  duplicated 
her  act  arid  ran  toward  the  spot  where  she  had  dis- 
appeared In  another  moment  his  hand  had  closed 
about  hers,  was  greeted  by  a  little  welcoming  squeeze, 
and  he  and  Betty  slipped  side  by  side  into  the  thicker 
dark  at  the  mouth  of  a  friendly  canon. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

OF  FLIGHT,  PURSUIT,  AND  A  LAIR  IN  THE  CLIFFS 

STRAIGHTWAY  Jim  Kendric  began  to  understand  the 
real  Betty.  He  broke  a  way  through  the  bushes  for 
her,  confident  that  the  noise  of  their  progress  was 
lost  in  the  increasing  beat  of  hoofs  and  rattle  of 
loose  stones.  They  stumbled  into  a  rocky  trail  in  the 
bottom  of  the  canon  and  made  what  haste  they  could, 
climbing  higher  into  the  mountain  solitudes.  The  pur- 
suit had  swept  by  them;  they  could  hear  occasional 
shouts  and  twice  gunshots.  They  came  to  a  pile  of 
tumbled  boulders  across  their  path  and  crawled  up. 
There  was  a  flattish  place  at  the  top  in  which  stunted 
plants  were  growing.  Here  they  sat  for  a  little  while, 
hiding  and  resting  and  listening.  Hardly  had  they 
settled  themselves  here  when  they  heard  again  the  clear 
tones  of  Zoraida's  whistle.  Not  more  than  fifty  yards 
away  they  made  out  the  form  of  Zoraida's  white  horse. 

There  was  a  little  sound  from  where  Betty  sat,  and 
Jim  thought  that  she  was  sobbing.  "Poor  little  kid," 
he  had  it  on  his  lips  to  mutter  when  the  sound  repeated 
itself  and,  amazed,  he  recognized  it  for  a  giggle  of 
pure  delight.  This  from  Betty,  sitting  on  a  rock  in 
the  mountains  with  a  crowd  of  outlaws  riding  up  and 
down  seeking  her! 

"You're  about  as  logical  an  individual  as  I  ever 
knew,"  was  what  he  said.  And  with  a  grunt,  at  that. 

"I  never  claimed  to  be  logical,"  retorted  Betty.  "I'm 
just  a  girl." 

221 


222  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Even  then,  while  they  whispered  and  fell  silent  and 
watched  and  listened,  he  began  to  understand  the  girl 
whom  he  was  to  come  to  know  very  well  before  many 
days.  She  did  not  pretend  at  high  fearlessness ;  when 
she  was  afraid  she  was  very  much  afraid,  and  had  no 
thought  to  hide  the  fact.  Tonight  her  fright  had  come 
as  near  killing  as  fright  can.  But  then  she  was  alone 
and  there  was  no  one  but  herself  to  make  the  fight  for 
her.  Now  it  was  different.  Since  Jim  had  come  she 
had  allowed  her  own  responsibility  to  shift  to  his 
shoulders.  It  was  instinctive  in  her  to  turn  to  some 
man,  to  have  some  man  to  trust  and  to  depend  upon. 
Jim  was  looking  out  for  her  and  right  now,  while 
Zoraida  and  her  men  searched  up  and  down,  Betty 
clasped  her  arms  about  her  gathered-up  knees  and  sat 
cozily  at  the  side  of  the  man  whose  sole  duty,  as  she 
saw  it,  was  to  guard  her  with  his  life.  So  Betty,  close 
enough  to  touch  the  rifle  across  Jim's  arm,  could  giggle 
as  she  pictured  Zoraida  rushing  by  the  very  spot  where 
they  hid. 

"You're  not  afraid,  then?"  asked  Jim. 

"Not  now,"  whispered  Betty. 

They  did  not  budge  for  half  an  hour.  During  that 
time  Kendric  did  a  deal  of  hard  thinking.  Their  plight 
was  still  far  from  satisfactory.  No  food,  no  water, 
no  horses,  and  in  the  heart  of  a  land  of  which  they 
know  nothing  except  that  it  was  hard  and  bleak  and 
closely  patrolled  by  Zoraida's  riders.  That  they  could 
succeed  now  in  eluding  pursuit  for  the  rest  of  the  night 
seemed  assured.  But  tomorrow?  Where  there  was 
one  man  looking  for  them  now  there  would  be  ten  to- 
morrow. And  there  were  the  questions  of  food  and 
water.  Above  all  else,  water. 

At  last,  when  it  was  very  still  all  about  them,  they 
moved  on  again.  They  climbed  over  the  rocks  and 


A  LAIR  IN  THE  CLIFFS  223 

further  up  the  canon.  Here  there  were  more  trees 
and  thicker  darkness,  and  their  progress  was  painfully 
slow.  They  skirted  patches  of  thorny  bushes;  they 
went  on  hands  and  knees  up  sharp  inclines.  They 
stopped  frequently,  panting  and  straining  their  ears 
for  some  sound  to  tell  them  of  a  pursuer ;  they  went  on 
again,  side  by  side  or  with  Kendric  ahead,  breaking 
trail. 

"We'll  have  to  dig  in  somewhere  before  dawn,"  said 
Tim  once  while  they  rested.  ''Where  we  can  stick 
close  during  daylight  tomorrow." 

Betty  merely  nodded;  all  such  details  were  to  be 
left  to  him.  It  was  his  clear-cut  task  to  take  care  of 
her;  just  how  he  did  it  was  not  Betty's  concern.  So 
they  went  on,  left  the  canon  where  there  was  a  way 
out,  made  their  toilsome  way  over  a  low  ridge  and  slid 
and  rolled  down  into  the  next  ravine.  And  here,  at 
the  bottom,  they  found  water.  A  thin  trickle  from  a 
spring,  wending  its  way  down  to  the  larger  stream  in 
the  valley.  They  lay  down,  side  by  side,  and  drank. 
Then  they  sat  back  and  looked  at  each  other  in  the 
starlight. 

"Betty,"  said  Jim  impulsively,  "you're  a  brick!" 

"Am  I  ?"  said  Betty.  And  by  her  voice  he  knew  that 
she  was  pleased. 

"We're  not  as  far  from  the  house  as  I'd  like,"  he 
said  presently.  "But  it  will  take  time  to  locate  a 
decent  hiding  place,  and  we've  got  to  stick  within 
reach  of  water." 

To  all  of  this  Betty  agreed;  personally  she'd  like  to 
be  a  thousand  miles  away  from  this  hideous  place,  but 
they  would  have  to  make  the  best  of  things.  That 
willingness  of  hers  to  accept  conditions  without  be- 
moaning her  fate  was  what  had  drawn  from  him  his 
impulsive  epithet. 


224  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"The  thing  to  do,  then,'5  said  Kendric,  getting  up, 
"is  to  look  for  a  likely  place  to  spend  a  long  day.  And 
It  may  be  more  than  one  day." 

Then  Betty  made  her  suggestion,  offering  it  timidly, 
as  though  she  were  entering  a  discussion  in  which, 
rightly,  she  had  no  part : 

"Up  yonder,"  and  she  pointed  to  the  abrupt  ridge 
cutting  black  across  the  stars,  "are  cliffy  places.  It's 
not  too  far  from  water.  There  ought  to  be  hiding 
places  among  the  broken  boulders.  And,"  she  con- 
cluded, "we  might  be  able  to  peek  out  and  look  down 
and  see  what  was  happening." 

No;  he  had  not  done  her  justice.  He  looked  toward 
her,  wondering  for  a  moment.  Then  he  said  briefly : 
"Right,"  and  they  drank  again  and  began  climbing. 

It  was  Betty  who,  fully  an  hour  later,  found  the  re- 
treat which  they  agreed  to  utilize.  Kendric  was  some- 
where above  her,  making  a  hazardous  way  up  a  steep 
bit  of  cliff,  when  Betty's  voice  floated  up  to  him. 

"I  think  I've  got  it,"  were  her  words,  guarded  but 
athrill  with  her  triumph.  "Come  see.  It's  a  great 
hole,  hid  by  bushes.  I  don't  like  to  go  poking  into  it 
alone.  You  can't  tell,  there  might  be  a  bear  or  a  snake 
or  something  inside." 

He  climbed  down  to  where  she  stood  at  the  edge  of 
a  little  level  space,  her  gown  gathered  in  a  hand  at 
each  side,  her  pretty  face  thrust  forward  as  she  sought 
to  peer  into  the  dark  before  her.  He  saw  the  clump 
of  bushes  but  not  immediately  the  hole  of  which  she 
spoke,  so  was  it  covered  and  hidden.  But  at  length 
he  made  out  the  irregular  opening  and,  thrusting  the 
bushes  aside  with  his  rifle  barrel,  judged  that  Betty 
had  done  well.  Here  was  a  perpendicular  cleft  in  the 
rock,  one  of  those  cracks  which  not  infrequently  result 


A  LAIR  IN  THE  CLIFFS  225 

from  the  splitting  of  gigantic  masses  of  rock  along  a 
well-defined  flaw.  In  some  ancient  convulsion  this 
fissure  had  developed,  the  two  monster  fragments  of 
the  mountain  had  been  divided,  one  had  slipped  a 
little,  and  thereafter  through  the  ages  they  had  stood 
face  to  face,  close  together.  Kendric  could  barely 
squeeze  his  body  through ;  he  found  the  space  slanting 
off  to  the  side ;  he  groped  forward  half  a  dozen  steps, 
encountered  an  out  jutting  knob  of  stone,  slipped  by  it, 
and  found  that  the  split  in  the  cliff  now  slanted  off 
the  other  way  and  widened  so  that  there  was  a  space 
five  or  six  feet  across.  How  far  ahead  the  fissure  ex- 
tended he  could  form  no  idea  yet.  He  turned  back  for 
Betty  and  bumped  into  her  just  inside  the  entrance. 

"It's    just    the    place    for    us    tonight/'    he    said. 
"Though  how  in  the  world  you  stumbled  onto  it  gets 


me/' 


"The  bushes  grew  close  to  the  rocks,"  Betty  ex- 
plained. "I  was  thinking  that  we  could  creep  back 
of  them  and  find  a  little  space  where,  with  the  brush  on 
one  side  and  the  cliff  on  the  other,  we'd  be  hidden.  And 
I  found  this  hole/' 

"The  air  gets  in  and  it's  clean  and  fresh,"  he  went 
on.  "We  couldn't  hope  for  better." 

"The  walls  are  so  close,"  whispered  Betty,  with  a 
little  shudder.  "They  give  one  the  feeling  they're 
going  to  press  in  and  crush  you." 

"They  widen  a  bit  in  a  minute."  He  groped  on 
ahead,  came  again  to  the  outthrust  knob  and  pressed 
by.  "Here  we  turn  a  little  to  the  right  and  here's  room 
for  a  dozen  people." 

Betty  hurried  and  stood  close  to  him.  In  vain  her 
eyes  sought  to  penetrate  the  absolute  dark;  no  slightest 
detail  of  floor  or  wall  was  offered  save  vaguely  through 
the  sense  of  touch. 


226  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"It's  dark  enough  to  smother  you,"  she  whispered. 
"I  wonder  what's  ahead  of  us?  I  wish  we  dared  have 
a  light!" 

He  was  silent  a  moment. 

"Maybe  we  do  dare,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "The 
crookedness  of  this  place  ought  to  shut  off  any  glow 
from  the  outside.  Let's  go  on  a  little  further  and 
we'll  try." 

He  went  on  slowly,  feeling  a  cautious  way  with  his 
feet,  his  hand  on  the  wall  of  rock  at  his  side,  Betty 
pressing  on  close  behind  him.  Thus  they  continued 
another  dozen  paces  or  so.  Then  they  stopped  because 
they  could  find  no  means  of  continuing;  so  far  as  they 
could  tell  by  groping  with  their  hands  the  fissure  nar- 
rowed again  until  it  was  no  wider  than  the  original 
entrance,  and  its  irregularities  presented  difficulties  to 
blind  progress. 

"Stand  here,"  said  Kendric.  "Close  to  the  rock. 
Here's  a  match.  I'll  slip  back  to  the  mouth  of  the  place 
and  we'll  see  if  there's  any  glow  gets  that  far." 

"Hurry,  then,"  said  Betty,  with  a  little  shiver,  her 
fingers  finding  his  and  taking  the  match. 

Appreciating,  her  sensations  he  hurried  off  through 
the  dark.  He  rounded  the  turn,  called  softly  to  her  to 
strike  the  match  and  went  on  again  until  he  was  near 
the  entrance.  So  still  was  it  that  he  heard  the  scratch- 
ing of  the  match  against  the  sole  of  her  sandal.  But 
no  flare  of  light  came  out  to  him. 

"Did  you  light  it?"  he  asked. 

"Yes.     Couldn't  you  see  it?" 

"Not  a  glimmer.  Wait  a  minute  and  I'll  bring  in 
some  stuff  for  a  fire." 

The  match  burned  down  until  it  warmed  her  fingers  ' 
and  went  out.    In  the  dark  she  waited  breathlessly.    A 
sigh  of  relief  escaped  her  when  she  heard  him  coming. 


A  LAIR  IN  THE  CLIFFS  227 

He  went  down  on  his  knees  and  made  a  very  small 
heap  of  the  dry  leaves  and  twigs  he  had  scraped  up. 
When  he  set  fire  to  it  and  straightened  up  they  watched 
the  flames  eagerly.  There  was  scarcely  more  light 
than  a  candle  casts  but  even  that  faint  illumination 
brought  something  of  cheer iness  with  it.  They  looked 
about  them  curiously.  They  could  see  dimly  the  pas- 
sageway along  which  they  had  come;  they  could  make 
out  its  narrowing  continuation  on  into  the  mass  of 
the  mountain.  They  looked  up  and  saw  an  ever  dwin- 
dling space  merging  with  darkness  and  finally  lost  in 
utter  obscurity.  Underfoot  was  debris,  rocky  soil 
worn  away  from  the  cliffs  throughout  the  ages,  here 
and  there  fallen  slivers  and  scale  of  rock.  Shadows 
moved  somberly,  misshapen  and  grotesque,  like  brood- 
ing spirits  of  evil  stirring  in  nightmare. 

Kendric  threw  on  a  little  more  fuel  and,  to  make 
doubly  sure,  went  outside  again,  standing  in  the  open 
beyond  the  fringe  of  bushes. 

"Never  a  flicker  gets  through,"  he  announced  when 
he  returned.  "A  man  would  have  to  come  close  enough 
to  hear  the  wood  crackle  or  smell  the  smoke  to  ever 
guess  we  had  a  fire  going.  And  even  the  smoke  is 
taken  care  of."  They  tilted  back  their  heads  to  see 
how  it  crept  lazing  up  and  up  until  it  was  dissipated 
among  the  lofty  shadows.  "If  we  can  manage  water 
and  food,"  he  went  on,  "I  think  we  would  be  safe  here 
a  year.  The  lazy  devils  taking  Zoraida's  pay  can't 
make  it  up  this  way  on  horseback,  and  they're  not 
going  to  climb  on  foot  up  every  steep  bit  of  mountain- 
side hereabouts,  looking  for  us." 

"A  year?"  gasped  Betty. 

"I  hope  not."  He  became  conscious  of  a  sudden 
sense  of  relief  after  all  that  the  night  had  offered  and 
his  old  joyous  laughter  shone  in  his  eyes.  "But  there 


228  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

may  be  wisdom  in  sticking  close  for  a  few  days.  Until 
they  decide  we've  gone  clear." 

It  was  the  time,  inevitable  though  it  may  be  long 
delayed,  of  relaxing  nerves  and  muscles.  Betty  sat 
down  limply,  her  hands  loose  in  her  lap,  her  eyes 
drawn  to  their  fire,  looking  tired  and  wistful.  Ken- 
dric,  looking  at  her,  felt  a  hot  rush  of  anger  at  Zo- 
raida  for  being  the  cause  of  their  present  condition. 
Betty  lifted  her  head  and  caught  the  expression  mold- 
ing his  face.  She  was  wrapped  about  with  her  red 
gown  and  Zoraida's  cloak ;  her  ankles  were  bare ;  there 
were  scratches  on  them;  her  sandals  looked  already 
worn  out;  her  hair  was  tumbled  and  snarled.  She 
shook  it  loose  and  began  combing  it  through  with  her 
fingers,  then  twisting  it  up  into  two  loose  brown  braids. 

"If  we  do  have  to  stay  a  while,"  said  Betty,  gather- 
ing her  courage  in  both  hands,  looking  up  at  him  and 
managing  a  smile,  "I'll  show  you  how  I  can  cozy  the 
place  up.  Tomorrow,  while  you're  doing  the  man's 
part  and  finding  us  something  to  eat,  I'll  show  you  what 
a  housekeeper  I  can  be.  Why,  I  can  make  this  just 
like  home;  you'll  see." 

While  he  was  doing  the  man's  part!  In  her  mind, 
then,  it  was  all  simplified  and  reduced  to  that.  His, 
naturally,  was  to  be  the  task  of  furnishing  food,  for 
nothing  was  clearer  than  that  they  must  eat  and  that 
filling  the  larder  was  Jim's  affair  and  not  Betty's. 
Where  he  was  to  get  food  and  how  and  what  kind  of 
food  it  might  be  was  to  be  left  to  him.  There  was 
Betty  for  you,  quite  content  to  leave  such  matters 
where  they  properly  belonged — in  a  man's  hands.  But 
he  might  rest  assured  that  whatever  he  brought  in,  be 
it  a  handful  of  acorns  or  pine  nuts  or  the  carcass  of  a 
lean  ground  squirrel,  would  be,  in  Betty's  eyes, 
splendid ! 


A  LAIR  IN  THE  CLIFFS  229 

"Somehow,"  he  burst  out,  "in  spite  of  Zoraida  and 
all  the  bandits  in  Mexico,  we'll  carry  on!" 

"Of  course,"  said  Betty. 

He  saw  that  she  was  leaning  back  against  the  rocks, 
that  her  whole  body  drooped,  that  she  looked  wearied 
out. 

"I'm  going  out  for  some  boughs,  the  softest  I  can 
find  handy,"  he  said.  "We'll  have  to  sleep  on  them. 
And  while  I'm  doing  that  I've  got  to  figure  out  a  way 
to  bring  some  water  up  here.  We  don't  know  what's 
ahead  and  we'd  be  in  hard  luck  bottled  up  here  all  day 
tomorrow  with  nothing  to  drink.  Lord,  I'd  give  a  lot 
for  a  tin  bucket !" 

He  made  a  little  heap  of  dead  wood  close  to  her 
hand  so  that  she  could  keep  her  fire  going,  and  put 
down  on  the  other  side  of  her  his  rifle  and  the  long 
obsidian  knife,  planning  to  use  his  pocket  knife  for 
the  work  at  hand. 

"You  won't  go  far?"  asked  Betty. 

"Only  a  few  steps,"  he  assured  her.  "I'll  hear  if 
you  call.  And  you  have  the  rifle  handy." 

He  was  going  out  when  Betty's  voice  arrested  him. 

"It's  the  housekeeper's  place  to  have  the  buckets 
ready,"  was  what  she  said. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  he  asked. 

"I'll  show  you  when  you  come  back.  You'll  hurry, 
won't  you?" 

"Sure  thing,"  he  answered.  And  went  about  his 
task. 

Now  Jim  Kendric  knew  as  well  as  any  man  that 
there  is  no  bed  to  compare  with  the  bed  a  man  may 
make  for  himself  in  the  forestlands.  But  here  was 
no  forest,  no  thicket  of  young  firs  aromatic  and  springy, 
nothing  but  the  harsher  vegetation  of  a  hard  land 
where  agaves,  the  maguey  of  Mexico,  and  their  kin 


230  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

thrive,  where  the  cactus  is  the  characteristic  growth. 
He'd  be  in  luck  to  find  some  small  pines  or  even  the 
dry-looking  sparse  cedars  of  the  locality.  These  with 
handfuls  of  dry  leaves  and  grass,  perhaps  some  ten- 
derer shoots  from  the  hillside  sage,  with  Zoraida's 
cloak  spread  over  them,  might  make  for  Betty  a  couch 
on  which  she  could  manage  to  sleep.  It  was  too  dark 
for  picking  and  choosing  and  his  range  was  limited 
to  what  scant  growth  found  root  on  these  uplands 
close  by. 

When  he  returned  with  the  first  armful  of  branches 
he  informed  Betty  cheerily  that  outside  her  fire  was 
hidden  as  though  a  sturdy  oak  panel  shut  their  door 
for  them.  Betty  was  bending  busily  over  her  cloak 
and  still  thus  occupied  when  he  brought  in  the  second 
and  third  trailing  armful  of  boughs.  He  stood  with 
his  hands  on  his  hips,  looking  down  at  her  curiously. 
And  as  at  last  Betty  glanced  up  brightly  there  was  an 
air  of  triumph  about  her. 

"The  bucket  is  ready  for  the  water,"  she  said. 

He  came  closer  and  she  held  out  something  toward 
him,  and  again  he  adjusted  his  views  to  fit  the  com- 
panion whom  he  was  growing  to  know.  She  had 
spoiled  a  very  beautiful  and  expensive  cloak,  but  of  it 
she  had  improvised  something  intended  to  hold  water. 
Not  for  very  long,  perhaps;  but  long  enough  for 
the  journey  here  from  the  creek,  if  a  man  did  not  loiter 
on  the  way.  With  the  ancient  sacrificial  knife  she 
had  hacked  at  a  stringy,  fibrous  bit  of  vegetation 
growing  near  the  mouth  of  their  den;  she  had  man- 
aged a  tough  loop  some  eight  or  ten  inches  in  diameter. 
Then  she  had  ripped  a  square  of  silk  from  the  cloak 
which  she  had  shaped  cunningly  like  a  deep  pocket, 
binding  it  securely  into  the  fiber  rim  by  thrusting  holes 
through  the  silk  and  running  bits  of  the  green  fiber 


A  LAIR  IN  THE  CLIFFS  231 

through  like  pack  thread.  The  final  result  looked  some- 
thing less  like  a  bucket  than  some  strange  oriole's 
hanging  nest 

"It  will  hold  water,"  vowed  Betty,  ready  for  argu- 
ment. "I've  worn  bathing  caps  of  a  lot  poorer  grade 
of  silk  and  never  a  drop  got  through.  Besides  I  put 
a  thickness  of  silk,  then  a  layer  of  these  broad  leaves, 
then  another  piece  of  silk,  to  make  sure." 

"Fine,"  he  said.  "Yes,  it  will  hold  water  for  a  while. 
But  it's  a  long  time  from  daylight  until  dark,  and  I'm 
afraid " 

"As  if  I  hadn't  thought  of  that!"  said  Betty.  "I 
knew  that  if  I  looked  around  I'd  find  something.  I 
thought  of  your  boots,  of  course ;  and  I  thought  of  your 
rifle  barrel.  But  you'll  need  the  boots  and  may  need 
the  gun.  Come  and  I'll  show  you  our  reservoir." 

She  put  a  handful  of  leaves  and  twigs  on  the  fire 
for  the  sake  of  more  light,  and  led  the  way  toward 
the  narrowing  fissure  further  back  in  their  retreat. 
Here  she  stopped  before  a  great  rudely  egg-shaped 
boulder  five  or  six  feet  through  that  lay  in  a  shallow 
depression  in  the  ground. 

"Our  water  bottle,"  said  Betty. 

He  supposed  that  she  referred  to  the  depression  in 
the  rock  floor,  since  the  boulder  did  not  fit  in  it  so 
exactly  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  the  big  rude 
basin  holding  water.  The  word  "evaporation"  was  on 
his  lips  when  Betty  explained.  She  had  hoped  to  find 
somewhere  a  cavity  in  a  rock  that  would  hold  their 
water  supply;  she  had  noted  this  boulder  and  a  flattish 
place  at  its  top.  There  her  questing  fingers  had  dis- 
covered what  Kendric's,  at  her  direction,  were  explor- 
ing now.  There  was  a  fairly  round  hole,  a  couple  of 
inches  across.  The  edges  were  surprisingly  smooth; 
Kendric  could  not  guess  how  deep  the  hole  was. 


232  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"Poke  a  stick  into  it,"  Betty  commanded. 

Obeying,  he  learned  that  the  hole  extended  eighteen 
inches  or  more.  Here  was  a  fairly  regular  cylinder 
let  into  a  block  of  hard  rock  that  would  contain  some- 
thing like  two  quarts  of  water — certainly  enough  to 
keep  the  life  in  two  people  for  twenty-four  hours. 

"We'll  make  a  plug  to  fit  into  the  mouth  of  it,"  he 
said,  catching  her  idea  and  immediately  was  as  en- 
thusiastic over  it  as  Betty.  "And  while  we're  out  get- 
ting the  water  we'll  find  something  for  straws.  There 
are  wild  grasses,  oats  or  something  that  looks  like  oats, 
in  the  canon." 

The  night  was  well  spent;  dawn  would  come  early. 
And  with  the  dawn,  they  had  no  doubt,  the  mountain 
trails  would  fill  with  Zoraida's  men,  questing  like 
hounds.  Hence  Betty  and  Jim  lost  no  more  time  in 
making  their  trip  down  the  steep  slope  to  the  trickle 
of  water.  They  drank  again,  lying  side  by  side  at  a 
pool.  Then  Jim  filled  Betty's  "bucket"  and  they  re- 
turned to  their  place  of  refuge.  Kendric  arranged 
the  boughs  for  Betty  and  made  her  lie  down.  By  the 
time  he  had  carved  and  fitted  a  plug  into  their  "water 
bottle"  Betty  was  asleep. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

HOW  ONE  WHO  HIDES  AND  WATCHES  MAY  BE 
WATCHED  BY  ONE  HIDDEN 

BUT  Kendric  himself  did  not  sleep.  He  sat  by  their 
dead  fire  and  watched  the  gradual  thinning  of  the 
darkness  about  him  as  the  vague  light  filtered  in  from 
the  awakening  outside  world.  He  looked  at  Betty 
sleeping,  only  to  look  away  with  a  frown  darkening 
his  eyes.  She  would  sleep  heavily  and  long ;  she  would 
awake  refreshed  and — hungry.  He  was  hungry 
already. 

"It's  open  and  shut/'  he  told  himself.  "It's  up  to 
me  to  forage." 

And  it  was  as  clear  that  there  was  always  a  risk  of 
being  seen  as  he  left  their  hiding  place.  That  risk 
would  increase  as  the  day  brightened.  Hence,  since 
he  must  go,  it  were  best  not  to  tarry.  He  found  in  his 
pocket  a  stub  of  pencil  and  an  old  envelope.  On  it 
he  wrote  a  brief  message,  placing  it  on  the  ground  near 
her  outflung  hand,  laying  Bruce's  pistol  upon  it. 

"I'm  off  to  fill  the  larder.  Stick  close  until  I  come  back. 
If  I'm  long  gone  it  will  be  because  I  can't  help  it.  But  be 
sure  I'll  be  back  all  right  and  bring  something  to  eat  Jim." 

He  left  her,  not  without  uneasiness,  but  eager  to 
ihurry  away  so  that,  if  all  went  well,  his  return  might 
be  hastened  He  took  the  rifle  and  slipped  cautiously 
through  the  bushes,  stopping  to  make  what  assurance 

233 


234  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

he  could  that  he  was  not  being  seen,  crawling  for  the 
most  part  across  the  open  places,  keeping  as  much  as 
possible  where  boulders  or  trees  hid  him.  He  had 
already  made  his  tentative  plans;  he  made  his  way 
down  into  the  bed  of  the  ravine  and  thence  upstream. 
Swiftly  the  light  increased  over  the  still  solitudes.  The 
sun  was  up  on  the  highlands,  the  canons  only  were 
still  dusky. 

He  found  a  place  where  he  could  stand  hidden  and 
see  the  cliff-broken  slope  where  Betty  was.  Here  he 
stood  motionless  for  a  long  time,  watching.  For  he 
knew  that  if  by  chance  someone  had  seen  him  and  had 
not  followed  it  was  because  that  someone  had  elected 
rather  to  seek  the  girl.  At  last,  when  the  stillness  re- 
mained unbroken  and  he  saw  no  stirring  thing,  he  ex- 
pressed his  relief  in  a  deep  sigh  and  went  on. 

His  plan  was  to  work  his  way  up  the  ravine  until 
at  last  he  topped  the  ridge  and  went  down  on  the 
further  side.  From  his  starting  place  he  had  roughly 
picked  out  his  way,  shaping  his  trail  to  conform  to 
those  bits  of  timber  which  would  aid  in  his  conceal- 
ment. Once  over  the  ridge  he  would  press  on  until 
several  miles  lay  between  him  and  Betty.  Then,  if  he 
saw  game  of  any  sort  or  a  straying  calf  or  sheep,  he 
would  have  to  take  the  chance  that  a  rifle  shot  entailed. 
If  his  shot  brought  Zoraida's  men  down  on  him,  he 
would  have  to  fight  for  it  or  run  for  it  as  circum- 
stances directed. 

He  was  an  hour  in  cresting  the  first  ridge.  Before 
him  lay  a  wild  country,  broken  and  barren  in  places 
where  there  were  wildernesses  of  rock  and  thorny 
bush;  in  other  places  scantily  timbered  and  grown  up 
in  tough  grasses.  A  more  unlikely  game  country  he 
thought  that  he  had  never  seen.  But  the  land  here- 
abouts was  not  utterly  devoid  of  water  and  always,  as 


ONE  HIDES  AND  WATCHES 

he  went  on,  he  sought  those  canons  where  from  a  dis- 
tance he  judged  that  he  might  come  to  a  spring.  Even 
so  he  was  parched  with  thirst  before  he  found  the 
first  mudhole.  And  before  he  drew  near  enough  to 
drink  he  sat  many  minutes  screened  by  some  dusty 
willows,  his  eye  keen  either  for  watering  game  or  for 
Zoraida's  hirelings  who  would  be  watching  the  water- 
holes. 

But,  when  at  last  he  came  on,  he  found  nothing  but 
a  jumble  of  tracks.  Ponies  had  watered  here  and  had 
trampled  the  spring  into  its  present  resemblance  to  a 
mudhole.  He  found  a  place  to  drink,  and  drank 
thirstily,  finding  no  fault  with  the  alkali  water  or  the 
sediment  in  it.  He  washed  his  hands  and  face  in  it, 
wet  his  hair  and  went  on. 

There  came  three  more  spurs  of  mountain  to  cross, 
all  unlikely  for  game,  each  one  hotter  and  dryer  than 
the  others.  Twice  he  had  seen  a  coyote;  he  had  seen 
two  or  three  gaunt,  hungry-looking  jackrabbits.  They 
had  been  too  far  away  to  draw  a  shot,  gray  glimmers 
through  patches  of  sage.  He  had  seen  never  a  hoof 
of  wandering  cattle.  And  he  realized  that  during  the 
heat  of  the  day  there  was  small  hope  of  his  sighting 
any  browsing  animal.  He  would  probably  have  to  wait 
until  the  cool  of  evening  and  then,  if  he  made  his  kill, 
return  to  Betty  in  the  dark.  And,  though  he  keenly 
kept  his  bearings,  he  knew  that  if  he  mistook  a  land- 
mark somewhere  and  got  into  a  wrong  canon,  he'd 
have  his  work  cut  out  for  him  finding  her  at  night. 
Well,  that  was  only  a  piece  of  the  whole  pattern  and 
he  kept  his  mind  on  the  immediate  present. 

He  estimated  that  he  was  ten  miles  from  camp. 
Ahead  of  him  stretched  still  another  ridge,  a  little 
higher  than  the  others  but  a  shade  less  barren;  there 
were  scattered  pines  and  oaks  and  open  grassy  places. 


236  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

From  the  top  of  this  ridge,  half  an  hour  later,  he 
glimpsed  a  haze  of  smoke  rising  from  the  little  valley 
just  beyond.  And  when  he  came  to  a  place  whence 
he  could  have  an  unobstructed  view  he  saw  a  scatter- 
ing flock  of  sheep,  a  tiny  stream  of  water  and  a  rickety 
board  shack.  It  was  from  this  shelter  that  the  smoke 
rose.  It  was  high  noon  and  down  there  the  midday 
meal  was  cooking. 

Food  being  cooked  right  under  his  nose!  All  day 
he  had  been  hungry ;  now  he  was  ravenous.  So  strong 
was  the  impulse  upon  him  that  he  started  down  the 
slope  in  a  direct  line  to  the  house,  bent  upon  flinging 
open  a  door  and  demanding  to  be  fed.  But  he  caught 
himself  up  and  sat  down  in  the  shade,  hidden  behind 
some  bushes,  and  pondered  the  situation.  The  sheep 
straggled  everywhere;  he  might  wait  for  one  of  them 
to  wander  off  into  the  bushes  and  then  slip  around 
upon  it  and  make  it  his  own  with  a  clubbed  rifle.  Or  he 
might  go  to  the  house,  taking  his  chance. 

While  he  was  waiting  and  watching  he  saw  a  man 
come  out  of  the  cabin.  The  fellow  lounged  down  to 
the  spring  for  a  pan  of  water  and  lounged  back  to 
the  house;  the  eternal  Mexican  cigaret  in  his  lips  sent 
its  floating  ribbon  of  smoke  behind  him.  Ten  minutes 
later  the  same  man  came  out,  this  time  to  lie  down 
on  the  ground  under  a  tree. 

"Just  one  hombre,"  decided  Kendric.  "A  lazy  devil 
of  a  sheepherder.  There's  more  than  a  fair  chance 
that  his  siesta  will  last  all  afternoon." 

At  any  rate,  here  appeared  his  even  break.  He 
sprang  up,  went  with  swinging  strides  down  the  slope, 
taking  the  shortest  cut,  and  reached  the  cabin  by  the 
back  door.  The  Mexican  still  lay  under  his  tree.  Ken- 
dric looked  in  at  the  door.  No  one  there,  just  a  bare, 
empty  untidy  room.  It  was  bedroom,  kitchen  and 


ONE  HIDES  AND  WATCHES         237 

dining-room.  In  the  latter  capacity  It  appealed  strong- 
ly to  Kendric,  He  went  in,  set  his  rifle  down,  and 
rummaged. 

There  was,  of  course,  a  big  pot  of  red  beans.  And 
there  were  tortillas,  a  great  heap  of  them.  Kendric 
took  half  a  dozen  of  them,  moistened  them  in  the  half 
pan  of  water  and  poured  a  high  heap  of  beans  on  them. 
Then  he  rolled  the  tortillas  up,  making  a  monster 
cylindrical  bean  sandwich.  A  soiled  newspaper,  with 
a  look  almost  of  antiquity  to  it,  he  found  on  a  shelf 
and  wrapped  about  his  sandwich  which  he  thrust  into 
the  bosom  of  his  shirt.  All  of  this  had  required  about 
two  minutes  and  in  the  meantime  his  eyes  had  been 
busy,  still  rummaging. 

There  was  a  box  nailed  to  the  wall  with  a  cloth  over 
it.  In  it  he  found  what  he  expected;  a  lot  of  jerked 
beef,  dry  and  hard.  He  filled  his  pockets,  his  mouth 
already  full.  On  a  table  was  a  flour  sack ;  he  put  into 
it  the  bulk  of  the  remaining  beef,  some  coffee  and 
sugar,  a  couple  of  cans  of  milk.  Then  he  looked  out 
at  the  Mexican.  The  man  still  lay  in  the  gorged 
torpor  of  the  afternoon  siesta. 

"What  will  he  think?"  chuckled  Kendric,  "when  he 
finds  his  larder  raided  and  this  on  the  table?" 

This  was  a  twenty  dollar  gold  piece,  enough  to  pay 
many  times  over  the  amount  of  the  commandeered 
victuals.  Kendric  took  up  sack  and  rifle,  had  another 
mouthful  of  frijoles  and  beef,  and  went  out  the  way 
he  had  come.  And,  all  the  way  up  the  slope,  he  chuck- 
led to  himself. 

"Enough  to  last  Betty  and  me  a  week,"  he  estimated. 
"And  a  place  to  get  more  if  need  be.  That  hombre 
will  pray  the  rest  of  his  life  to  be  raided  again. — And 
never  a  shot  fired!" 


238  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

He  ate  as  he  went,  enough  to  keep  life  and  strength 
in  him  but  not  all  that  his  hunger  craved.  For  he 
thought  of  Betty  hungering  and  waiting  in  that  hideous 
loneliness  of  uncertainty,  and  had  no  heart  for  a  soli- 
tary meal.  But  in  fancy,  over  and  over,  he  feasted 
with  her,  and  beans  and  jerked  beef  and  coffee  boiled 
in  a  milk-can  made  a  banquet. 

He  hastened  all  that  he  could  to  return  to  her, 
though  he  knew  that  speeding  along  the  trail  could 
hardly  bring  him  to  her  a  second  earlier.  For  he 
would,  in  the  end,  be  constrained  to  wait  for  the  com- 
ing of  night  before  he  climbed  again  to  their  camp. 
He  realized  soberly  that  Betty  must  not  again  fall  into 
Zoraida's  hands;  that  the  result,  inevitably,  would  be 
her  death.  Were  Zoraida  mad  or  sane,  she  was  filled 
with  a  frenzy  of  blood  lust.  There  was  danger  enough 
without  his  increasing  it  for  the  sake  of  coming  an 
hour  sooner  with  food.  In  one  day  Betty  would  not 
starve  and  fast  she  must. 

But  there  was  satisfaction  in  drawing  steadily  closer 
to  her.  He  traveled  as  cautiously  as  he  had  come,  he 
stopped  in  many  places  of  concealment  whence  he  could 
overlook  miles  of  country,  he  followed  not  the  shortest 
paths  but  the  safest.  And  the  sun  was  still  high  when 
he  came  to  the  last  ridge  and  looked  down  the  canon 
and  across  and  saw  the  cliffs  of  home.  In  his  thoughts 
it  was  home. 

All  day  long,  save  for  the  herder,  he  had  seen  not  a 
single  soul.  Now  he  saw  someone,  a  man  at  a  dis- 
tance and  upon  the  side  of  the  canon  opposite  the  spot 
he  and  Betty  had  chosen.  Kendric  had  been  for  ten 
minutes  lying  under  a  tree  on  the  ridge,  his  body  con- 
cealed by  an  outcropping  ledge  of  rock  over  which 
he  had  been  looking.  The  man,  like  himself,  was  play- 
ing a  waiting  game.  But  just  now  he  had  stirred, 


ONE  HIDES  AND  WATCHES         239 

moving  swiftly  from  behind  a  tree  to  a  nearby  boulder. 
Thus  he  had  caught  Kendric's  eye.  And  thus  Kendric 
was  reassured,  confident  after  the  first  quick  sinking  of 
his  heart,  that  the  other  had  not  seen  him. 

The  man,  too  far  away  for  Kendric  to  distinguish 
detail  of  either  costume  or  features,  was  hardly  more 
than  a  slinking  shadow.  But  almost  with  the  first 
glimpse  there  came  the  quick  suspicion  that  it  was 
Ruiz  Rios.  He  saw  something  white  in  the  man's 
hand;  a  handkerchief  since  the  gesture  was  one  of 
wiping  a  wet  forehead.  And  on  that  slender  evidence 
Kendric's  belief  established  itself.  Zoraida's  vacqueros 
would  not  carry  white  handkerchiefs ;  if  they  carried 
any  sort  at  all  they  would  probably  be  red  or  yellow 
or  blue;  or,  if  white  originally,  they  would  not  be  kept 
so  snowy  as  to  flash  like  that  one.  And  the  gesture 
itself,  once  the  thought  had  come  to  him,  was  vaguely 
suggestive  of  that  slow  grace  in  every  movement  that 
was  Rios's.  The  man  might  be  anyone,  conceivably 
even  Barlow  or  Bruce;  but  in  his  heart  Kendric  knew 
it  was  Rios. 

Lower  than  ever  Kendric  crouched  in  the  shelter  of 
the  rock;  steady  and  unwinking  and  watchful  did  his 
eyes  cling  to  the  distant  figure.  He  made  out  after  a 
long  period  of  motionlessness  another  gesture;  the 
man's  hands  were  up  to  his  face;  he  was  shading  his 
eyes  or  studying  the  mountainside  with  field  glasses. 
The  latter  probably. 

The  afternoon  dragged  on  and  for  a  long  time 
neither  man  moved.  At  last  Rios,  if  Rios  it  was,  with- 
drew a  little,  slipped  behind  a  tree,  passed  to  another 
and  disappeared.  Kendric  did  not  see  him  again 
though  he  kept  alert  every  instant.  At  last  came  the 
time  when  the  sun  slipped  down  behind  the  ridge  and 
the  dusk  thickened  and  the  stars  came  out.  Kendric 


240  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

rose,  stiff  and  weary,  and  began  his  slow,  tedious  way 
down  into  the  canon.  His  long  enforced  stillness  dur- 
ing which  he  had  not  dared  doze  a  second,  had  served 
to  bring  a  full  realization  of  bodily  fatigue  and  need 
of  sleep.  No  rest  last  night;  today  many  hard  miles 
and  little  nourishment ;  now  every  nerve  yearned  for  a 
safe  return  to  camp  for  a  sight  of  Betty,  for  the  op- 
portunity to  throw  himself  down  on  a  bed  of  boughs 
and  rest. 

Though  it  was  dark  when  he  started  to  climb 
the  steep  toward  camp  he  relaxed  nothing  of  his 
guarded  precautions.  Urged  by  impatience  as  he  was, 
eager  to  know  if  all  was  well  with  Betty,  his  uneasiness 
for  her  growing  with  every  step  toward  her,  he  crawled 
slowly  and  silently  through  bushes  and  among  boul- 
ders, he  stopped  frequently  and  listened,  he  forced  him- 
self to  a  round  about  way  rather  than  take  the  direct. 
All  this  in  spite  of  his  keen  realization  that  for  Betty 
the  time  must  be  dragging  even  as  it  dragged  for  him. 
Betty  hungry,  frightened  and  lonely  was,  above  all, 
uncertain. 

But  at  last  he  came  to  the  opening  in  the  rocks.  He 
squeezed  through,  his  heart  suddenly  heavy  within  him 
as  the  stillness  of  the  place  smote  him  like  a  positive 
assurance  that  Betty  was  gone.  He  went  on,  his  teeth 
set  hard.  If  Betty  were  gone,  by  high  heaven,  there 
would  be  a  rendering  of  accounts !  And  then,  even  be- 
fore the  first  glimmer  of  her  little  fire  reached  him,  he 
heard  her  glad  cry.  She  came  running  to  meet  him, 
her  two  hands  out,  groping  for  his.  And  he  dropped 
rifle  and  provision  bag  and  in  the  half  dark  his  hands 
found  hers  and  gripped  hard  in  mighty  rejoicing. 

"Thank  God!"  said  Betty. 

And  Jim  Kendric's  words  were  like  a  deep,  fervent 
echo:  "Thank  God." 


CHAPTER  XX 

IN  WHICH  A  ROCK  MOVES,  A  DISCOVERY  IS  MADE  AND 
MORE  THAN   ONE  AVENUE  IS   OPENED 

IN  the  light  of  Betty's  fire  Jim  hastily  poured  forth 
the  contents  of  his  bag  and  never  did  a  child's  eyes  at 
Christmas  time  shine  like  Betty's.  She  had  hungered 
until  she  was  weak  and  trembling  and  now  such  articles 
as  Jim  displayed  were  amply  sufficient  to  elicit  from 
her  that  little  cry  of  delight.  Tortillas  and  beans,  meat 
and  coffee  and  sugar  and  milk — it  was  a  banquet  fit 
for  a  king  and  a  queen ! 

'The  only  thing,"  cautioned  Kendric,  "is  to  go 
slow.  It's  a  course  dinner,  Miss  Betty.  And  first 
comes  a  bit  of  milk." 

He  ripped  open  a  can  with  his  pocket  knife,  poured 
out  half  of  the  thick  contents  into  the  silk-water  bag 
and  diluted  the  remainder  with  water.  Thereafter  he 
watched  Betty  while  she  forced  herself,  at  his  bidding, 
to  eat  and  drink  sparingly.  And  he  noted  that  during 
his  absence  she  had  been  busy  working  on  her  ward- 
robe. Using  both  the  red  garment  and  the  cloak,  em- 
ploying in  her  task  the  obsidian  knife  and  strips  of 
green  fiber,  she  had  made  for  herself  a  garment  which 
it  would  have  been  hard  to  classify  and  yet  which  was 
astonishingly  becoming.  As  much  as  anything  Kendric 
had  ever  seen  it  resembled  a  stylish  and  therefore  out- 
landish riding  habit  She  wore  Zoraida's  shoes  and 
stockings. 

"I  washed  them  with  sand  and  water  first,"  said 

241 


242  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Betty  around  a  corner  of  her  sandwich.  "And  I  let 
them  air  all  day." 

"No  visitors?"  said  Kendric,  "No  sign  of  anyone 
on  our  trail?" 

Betty  assured  him  that  she  had  been  unmolested, 
that  the  terrible  stillness  of  the  mountain  had  been  un- 
broken. And  she  sought  to  tell  him  how  long  the  day 
had  been. 

"I  know,"  he  said.  "It  was  long  enough  for  me,  and 
I  was  out  in  the  open  and  stirring.  It  must  have  been 
a  slice  of  torment  for  you  here  alone  all  day,  not  even 
knowing  if  I'd  ever  get  back  or  have  any  food  when 
I  came." 

"I  knew  you'd  come,"  said  Betty.  "But  it  was  lone- 
some and  shivery." 

He  told  her  of  his  day  and  finally  of  the  man  he  had 
seen  across  the  canon.  Further,  of  his  suspicion  that 
it  was  Ruiz  Rios.  Betty  shuddered. 

"He  is  a  terrible  creature,"  she  said.  "I'd  rather  it 
was  anyone  else.  Do  you  think  he  has  an  idea  we're 
here?"* 

He  stretched  out  by  the  fire,  helped  himself  to  a  bit 
of  the  dried  beef  and  told  her  his  thoughts. 

"I  know  just  about  how  Rios  would  reason  things 
out.  And,  oddly  enough,  it  strikes  me  that  though  he 
began  with  a  false  premise  he  has  come  pretty  close 
to  reaching  the  right  conclusion.  You  see,  he  knows 
that  I  came  down  here  with  Barlow  looking  for  treas- 
ure. He  knew  Captain  Escobar  was  ahead  of  him  on 
the  same  trail  and  when  he  could  get  nothing  further 
out  of  Escobar  he  killed  him.  .  But  he  did  know  in  a 
general  way  where  we  expected  to  find  the  stuff.  So, 
when  you  and  I  skip  out  and  don't  head  straight  back  to 
the  gulf,  he's  pretty  sure  I'm  still  making  a  stab  at 
getting  the  treasure.  And  it  has  happened  that  you 


A  ROCK  MOVES  243 

and  I,  blundering  along  in  the  dark,  have  hit  on  this 
spot  which  is  not  far  from  the  place  where  the  treasure 
is  supposed  to  be.  So  Rios  hides  in  the  brush  with  a 
pair  of  glasses  and  keeps  his  eye  peeled  for  us.  I 
think  that's  the  whole  explanation  of  his  being  out 
yonder.  And  I  think  that's  all  he  knows." 

"It's  enough."     Betty  shook  her  head  dubiously. 

"Of  course,"  he  admitted,  "this  is  just  a  guess  on 
my  part.  He  may  know  more  than  I  think. — During 
the  day,"  he  added,  "and  just  now  while  I  lay  out 
yonder  waiting  for  dark,  I've  had  a  lot  of  time  to  think 
things  out  First,  it  strikes  me  as  best  to  hide  out 
here  one  more  day  and  then,  tomorrow  night,  to  make 
a  break  for  the  outside.  Personally,  I  don't  know  that 
I'd  be  fit  for  much  tonight;  it's  a  good  stiff  hike  to 
where  we  left  the  Half  Moon  and  I  won't  be  able  to 
keep  awake  much  longer.  Then  by  tomorrow  night, 
even  if  Zoraida  is  as  keen  as  ever  to  get  us  back,  I 
doubt  if  her  men's  enthusiasm  for  vigilance  will  have 
lasted  at  the  first  heat.  There'll  be  a  better  chance  for 
us  to  slip  through." 

Here,  again,  the  responsibility  in  Betty's  way  of 
thinking  was  his  and  she  accepted  his  plan  without 
challenge. 

"Another  thing  I've  been  thinking  of,"  he  went  on, 
"is  that  queer,  smooth  hole  in  that  boulder ;  where  we've 
our  water  stored.  What  have  you  made  of  it?" 

"A  reservoir,"  she  answered  lightly,  her  spirits  risen 
swiftly  with  his  coming  and  a  taste  of  food.  "What 
else?" 

"Rios  is  hard  set  in  his  belief  that  there's  ancient 
treasure  nearby.  So  is  Barlow.  So,  evidently,  was 
Escobar.  If  so,  what  more  likely  place  than  where 
we  are?  That  hole  didn't  make  itself  after  that  regu- 
lar fashion.  I  don't  see  just  what  it  has  to  do  with  the 


244  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

case,  I'll  admit.  But  somebody  made  it  a  long  time 
ago  and  didn't  do  it  just  for  the  fun  of  the  job. 
I've  a  notion  that  it  has  its  bearing  on  the  thing. 
Somehow." 

"It  isn't  big  enough  to  hold  much  treasure/'  said 
Betty.  "Maybe  they  didn't  finish  it?" 

But  from  this  they  went  to  other  matters.  Kendric 
merely  decided  that  while  they  spent  a  long  tomorrow 
of  inaction  he  would  look  into  the  matter.  There  was 
no  great  temptation  to  tarry  for  treasure  and  the  in- 
centive to  be  on  the  way,  traveling  light,  was  suffi- 
ciently emphasized.  But  there  was  a  quiet  day  to  be 
put  in  tomorrow,  if  all  went  right,  and  he  was  not  the 
man  to  forget  what  had  brought  him  southward. 

"We'll  both  go  to  sleep,"  he  said  presently,  "and  not 
do  any  worrying  about  what  the  other  fellow  may  be 
doing.  With  our  fire  out  and  a  lot  of  dead  limbs  scat- 
tered about  the  entrance  to  crack  under  a  man's  foot, 
they'll  not  surprise  us  tonight,  even  if  they  should  know 
where  we  are.  Tomorrow  we'll  keep  a  watch  over 
the  ravine.  And  tomorrow  night  I  hope  we'll  be  on  the 
trail  toward  the  gulf.  Now  do  you  want  to  slip  out 
with  me  for  a  goodnight  drink  of  water?  Or  would 
you  rather  wait  here  for  me?" 

Betty  was  on  her  feet  in  a  flash. 

"I've  done  enough  waiting  today  to  last  me  the  rest 
of  my  life !"  she  cried  emphatically.  "I'll  go  with  you." 

So  again,  and  as  cautious  as  they  had  been  last  night, 
they  made  their  way  down  the  steep  slope  and  drank  in 
the  starlight.  They  tarried  a  little  by  the  trickle  of 
water,  heeding  the  silence,  breathing  deep  of  the  soft 
night,  lifting  their  eyes  to  .the  stars.  The  world  seemed 
young  and  sweet  about  them,  dean  and  tender,  a  place 
of  infinite  peace  and  kindness  rather  than  of  a  pursuing 


A  ROCK  MOVES  245 

hate.  They  stood  close  together;  their  shoulders 
brushed  companionably.  Together  they  hearkened  to 
a  tiny  voice  thrilling  through  the  emptiness,  the  monot- 
onous vibrating  cadences  of  some  happy  insect.  The 
heat  of  the  day  had  passed  with  the  day,  the  perfect 
hour  had  come.  It  was  one  of  those  moments  which 
Jim  Kendric  found  to  his  liking.  Many  such  still 
hours  had  he  known  under  many  skies  and  out  of  the 
night  had  always  come  something  vague  and  mighty 
to  speak  to  something  no  less  mighty  which  lay  within 
his  soul.  But  always  before,  when  he  drank  the  fill 
of  a  time  like  this,  he  had  been  alone.  He  had  thought 
that  a  man  must  be  alone  to  know  the  ineffable  con- 
tent of  the  solitudes.  Tonight  he  was  not  alone.  And 
yet  more  perfect  than  those  other  hours  in  other  lands 
was  this  hour  slipping  by  now  as  the  tiny  voice  out 
yonder  slipped  through  the  silence  without  shattering 
it.  Certain  words  of  his  own  little  song  crept  into  his 
mind. 

"Where  it's  only  you 
And  the  mountainside." 

That  "you"  had  always  been  just  Jim  Kendric.  After 
this,  if  ever  again  he  sang  it,  the  "you"  would  be 
Betty. 

"Shall  we  go  back?'*  he  asked  quietly. 

He  saw  Betty  start.  Her  eyes  came  back  from  the 
stars  and  sought  his.  He  could  see  them  only  dimly 
in  the  shadow  of  her  hair,  but  he  knew  they  were  shin- 
ing -with  the  gush  of  her  own  night-thoughts.  They 
scooped  up  their  water  then  and  went  back  up  the 
mountain.  Their  fire  was  almost  down  and  they  did 
not  replenish  it.  They  went  to  their  beds  of  boughs 
and  lay  down  in  silence.  Presently  Jim  said  "Good 


246  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

night."    And  Betty,  the  hush  of  the  outside  in  her  voice 
as  she  answered,  said  softly  "Good  night/' 

They  were  astir  before  dawn.  Fresh  water  must  be 
brought  before  daylight  brightened  in  the  canons.  This 
time  Jim  went  alone  to  the  creek  and  when  he  got 
back  Betty  had  their  fire  blazing.  Betty  made  the 
breakfast,  insisting  on  having  her  free  unhampered 
way  with  it. 

"There  are  some  things  I  can  do,"  said  Betty,  "and 
a  great  many  I  can't.  It  happens  that  I  know  what 
things  are  beyond  me  and  those  that  are  within  the 
scope  of  my  powers.  One  thing  that  I  can  do  is  cook. 
And  I  have  camped  before  now,  if  you  please." 

So,  when  Jim  had  brought  her  firewood  and  had 
placed  the  various  articles  of  their  larder  handy  for 
her  and  had  offered  his  services  with  jack-knife  to 
open  a  can  or  hack  through  a  bit  of  beef,  he  stood 
back  and  fully  enjoyed  the  sight  of  Betty  making 
breakfast  He  enjoyed  the  prettiness  of  her  in  her  odd 
costume  of  blouse,  scarlet  sash  and  knickerbockers,  silk 
stockings  and  high  heeled  slippers;  the  atmosphere  of 
intimacy  which  hovered  over  them,  distilled  in  a  meas- 
ure from  the  magic  of  a  camp  fire,  certainly  aided  and 
abetted  by  the  homey  arrangement  of  Betty's  brown 
hair;  the  aroma  of  coffee  beginning  to  bubble  in  a 
milk  tin;  the  fragrance  of  an  inviting  stew  in  the  other 
tin  wherein  were  mingled  frijoles  and  "jerky."  Ruiz 
Rios  might  lurk  around  the  next  spur  of  the  mountain ; 
Zoraida  might  be  inciting  her  hirelings  to  fresh  en- 
deavor; much  danger  might  be  watching  by  the  trail 
which  in  time  they  would  have  to  follow — but  here  and 
now,  for  the  few  minutes  at  least,  there  was  more  of 
quiet  enjoyment  in  their  retreat  than  of  discomfort  or 
of  fear  of  the  future. 


A  ROCK  MOVES  247 

"Let's  go  camping  some  time/'  said  Jim  abruptly. 
"Just  you  and  me.  We'll  take  a  pack  horse;  we'll  load 
him  to  the  guards  with  the  proper  sort  of  rations ;  we'll 
strike  out  into  the  heart  of  the  California  sierra — 
where  there  are  fine  forests  and  little  lakes  and  lonely 
trails  and  peace  over  all  of  it." 

Betty  looked  at  him  curiously,  then  away  swiftly. 

"Breakfast  is  ready,"  she  announced. 

He  sipped  at  his  coffee  absently;  his  eyes,  looking 
past  Betty,  saw  into  a  hidden,  cliff-rimmed  valley  in 
those  other,  fresher  mountains  further  north,  glimpsed 
vistas  down  narrow  trails  between  tall  pines  and  cedars 
and  firs,  fancied  a  lodge  made  of  boughs  on  the  shore 
of  a  little  blue  lake.  He'd  like  to  show  Betty  this  camp- 
ing spot ;  he'd  like  to  bring  in  for  her  a  string  of  gleam- 
ing trout;  he'd  like  to  lie  on  his  side  tinder  the  cliffs 
and  just  watch  her.  He  had  whittled  two  sticks  for 
spoons;  he  ate  his  stew  with  his  and  forgot  to  talk. 

And  Betty,  watching  him  covertly,  wondered  astutely 
if  over  the  first  meal  she  had  cooked  for  him  Jim 
Kendric  wasn't  readjusting  his  ancient  ideas  of  woman. 
For  some  hidden  reason,  or  for  no  reason  at  all,  her 
silence  was  as  deep  as  his. 

After  breakfast,  however,  it  was  Betty  who  started 
talk.  They  sought  to  plan  definitely  for  tonight.  Ken- 
dric told  her  of  the  way  he  and  Barlow  had  come,  of 
the  Half  Moon  awaiting  his  and  Barlow's  return,  of 
his  determination  to  make  use  of  the  schooner  if  they 
could  come  to  it  Barlow's  plans  were  not  at  Ken- 
dric's  disposal;  the  sailor  might  be  counting  on  the 
vessel  and  he  might  not.  At  any  rate  he  and  Betty 
could  slip  down  the  gulf  in  it  and  either  take  ship  at 
La  Paz,  sending  it  back  up  the  gulf  then,  or  steer  on 
to  San  Diego.  Of  course  he  would  seek  to  get  in  touch 
with  Barlow;  he  could  send  a  message  of  some  sort. 


248  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

But  after  all  Barlow  had  taken  the  game  into  his  own 
hands  and  had  said  that  it  was  now  each  man  for 
himself. 

"We  can  make  the  trip  during  the  night,  if  we  can 
make  the  get-away,"  he  told  her.  "We'll  have  to  take  a 
roundabout  way  at  first,  edging  the  valley  along  the 
foothills  on  this  side  until  we're  well  past  the  ranch 
house,  then  cut  across  the  shortest  way  and  pick  up 
the  trail  on  the  other  side.  We  can  take  enough 
water  in  our  milk  tins  to  last  us,  especially  since  we're 
traveling  in  the  cool." 

"And  if,"  suggested  Betty,  "the  Half  Moon  isn't 
there?  Or  if  Zoraida  has  set  some  of  her  men  to 
watch  for  us  there?" 

Naturally  he  had  thought  of  that.  If  they  came  to 
the  gulf  and  a  new  problem  of  this  sort  offered  itself, 
then  it  would  be  time  to  consider  it. 

"We'll  just  hope  for  the  best,"  he  answered,  "and 
try  to  be  ready  for  what  comes." 

Carefully  they  conserved  each  tiny  fragment  of 
food,  using  the  flour  sack  for  cupboard.  They  went 
cautiously  to  the  entrance  of  their  hiding  place  and  for 
a  long  time  crouched  behind  the  bushes,  watching  the 
canon  sides,  seeking  for  a  sign  of  Rios  as  they  fancied 
Rios  was  seeking  them.  And  during  the  quiet  hours 
they  explored  the  place  in  which  they  were. 

First  they  considered  the  odd  hole  in  the  big  boulder, 
seeking  to  find  some  logical  reason  for  its  being,  ask- 
ing themselves  if  it  could  have  any  connection  what- 
ever with  the  ancient  hidden  treasure.  Clearly  it  was 
the  result  of  human  labor.  Therefore  it  appeared  to 
have  its  relation  to  an  older  order  of  civilization  since 
it  was  not  conceivable  that  a  modern  man  had  taken 
such  a  task  upon  himself.  But  its  meaning  baffled. 

"It  could  be  a  sign,  like  a  blazed  tree  or  a  cross 


A  ROCK  MOVES  249 

scratched  on  a  block  of  stone,"  said  Kendric.  "But 
it  could  mean  anything.  Or  nothing,"  he  was  forced 
to  admit. 

It  was  only  in  the  late  afternoon,  after  a  long  period 
of  inactivity  and  silence,  that  an  inspiration  came  to 
Kendric.  Meantime  they  had  poked  into  every  crack 
and  cranny,  they  had  scraped  at  any  loose  dirt  on 
the  ground,  they  had  gone  back  and  forth  and  up  and 
down  over  every  square  inch  of  the  place  repeatedly. 
And  Kendric  thought  that  he  had  given  up  when  the 
last  idea  came  to  him.  He  went  quickly  back  to  the 
boulder.  Betty  watched  him  interestedly. 

"I  thought  we'd  given  that  up,"  she  said. 

He  had  both  hands  on  the  boulder,  his  fingers  grip- 
ping the  edge  of  the  baffling  hole,  and  was  seeking  to 
shake  the  big  block  of  rock.  Betty  came  to  his  side. 

"You  think  that  it  was  made  as  a  hand-hole  ?  That 
you  can  turn  the  rock  over?" 

"It  does  move — just  a  little,"  he  said.  He  put  all 
of  his  strength  into  a  fresh  attack.  The  boulder 
trembled  slightly — that  was  all. 

"I'll  bet  you  my  half  of  the  loot  that  I've  got  the 
hang  of  it,  Miss  Betty,"  he  announced  triumphantly. 
"Wait  and  see." 

He  began  looking  about  him  for  something. 

"If  I  only  dared  slip  outside  for  a  minute,"  he  said. 
Then  his  eye  fell  on  the  rifle.  "We'll  have  to  make 
this  do.  I  run  a  risk  of  jamming  the  front  sight  but 
I  guess  we  can  fix  that." 

He  protected  the  sight  as  well  as  he  could  by  wrap- 
ping his  handkerchief  about  it.  The  muzzle  of  the 
gun  he  thrust  down  into  the  hole  in  the  rock. 

"Get  it  now?"  he  asked.  "If  that  hole  wasn't  made 
to  allow  a  lever  to  be  inserted,  then  tell  me  what  it  was 


250  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

made  for.  And  here's  even  the  place  to  stand  while 
a  man  uses  it !  I'll  double  the  bet !" 

That  excitement  which  always  gets  into  any  man's 
blood  when  he  believes  that  he  is  on  the  threshold  of 
a  golden  discovery,  already  shone  in  his  eyes.  He 
stepped  to  a  sort  of  shelf  in  the  cavern  wall  dose  to 
the  boulder,  so  that  now  his  feet  were  on  a  level  with 
the  top  of  the  rock  he  meant  to  move.  So  he  could 
just  reach  out  and  grasp  the  butt  of  the  rifle.  Betty 
stood  by,  watching  with  an  eagerness  no  less  than  his 
own.  Gradually  he  set  his  force  at  work  on  his  lever, 
trying  this  way  and  that.  And  then — 

"It's  moving!"  cried  Betty.     "The  rock  is  turning!" 

And  now  it  turned  readily,  his  leverage  being  ample 
to  the  task. 

"Look  under  the  rock  as  it  tips  back,"  he  told  Betty. 
"See  if  there  isn't  a  hole  under  it.  Big  enough  for  a 
man  to  go  through!" 

"Yes!"  answered  Betty  after  a  breathless  fashion. 
"Yes.  A  little  more.  Oh,  come  see.  It  looks  almost 
like  steps  going  down!" 

"I'll  have  to  force  it  back  a  little  farther,"  he  re- 
turned. "Maybe  it  will  balance  there.  If  not  we'll 
have  to  get  loose  stones  and  wedge  under  it." 

He  pried  it  further  and  further  until  at  last  it  would 
not  budge  another  inch.  He  loosened  his  grip  a  trifle 
on  the  rifle-lever  and  the  rock  began  to  settle  back  into 
its  former  place.  But  Betty  had  seen  and  already  was 
bringing  fragments  of  stone  to  block  under  the  edges. 

"Now,"  she  called.    "Come  see." 

He  jumped  down;  the  boulder,  wedged  securely, 
lay  on  its  side.  He  went  to  Betty  and  from  what  they 
saw  before  them  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes 
wonderingly. 


A  ROCK  MOVES  251 

'The  tale  was  true,"  he  said  with  conviction.  "You 
and  I  have  found  the  way  to  the  treasure." 

In  the  floor  was  an  opening  a  couple  of  feet  square. 
Very  rude,  uneven  steps  led  down,  vanishing  in  a  for- 
bidding black  dark.  Kendric  lay  flat  and  looked  down. 
Little  by  little  he  could  penetrate  a  bit  further,  but  in 
the  end  there  lay  a  region  of  impenetrable  darkness 
into  which  the  steps  merged. 

"You're  going  down  there?'  gasped  Betty. 

"Am  I?"  he  laughed.  "You  wouldn't  want  us  to 
skip  out  tonight  without  even  having  looked  into  it, 
would  you?*' 

"N-o."  But  she  hesitated  and  even  shuddered  as 
she  too  lay  down  and  peered  into  the  forbidding  place. 

"We'll  not  take  any  chances  we  don't  have  to."  He 
got  up  and  began  immediately  to  make  his  few  prep- 
arations. "Here's  the  rifle;  I'll  leave  it  handy  for 
you  in  case  our  friend  Rios  should  surprise  us.  I'll 
take  a  handful  of  stuff  with  me  to  burn  for  a  torch. 
And  we'll  have  another  look  out  into  the  canon  to 
begin  with," 

He  drew  out  the  rifle  and  gave  it  to  Betty.  He 
placed  other  stones  with  the  ones  she  had  slipped 
under  the  edges  of  the  boulders.  And  finally  he  went 
to  look  out  into  the  canon, 

"No  one  in  sight,"  he  reported.  "And  now,  here 
goes." 

He  sat  down  at  the  edge  of  the  opening  in  the  floor, 
set  a  match  to  his  crude  torch,  grinned  comfortingly 
up  at  Betty  and  wriggled  over  and  set  his  foot  to  the 
first  step.  As  he  did  so  there  came  to  him  an  un- 
pleasant memory  of  the  fashion  in  which  Zoraida  had 
guarded  her  own  secret  places  with  rattlesnakes;  he 
wondered  if  any  of  the  ugly  brutes  lived  down  here? 
As  it  happened  the  thought  had  its  influence  in  saving 


252  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

him  from  mishap  later.  For,  though  he  came  upon  no 
snakes,  he  went  warily  and  thus  avoided  another 
danger. 

His  torch  burnt  vilely  and  smoked  copiously.  But 
what  faint  light  it  afforded  was  sufficient.  Step  by 
step  he  went  down  until  feet  and  legs  and  then  entire 
body  were  lost  to  Betty  above;  she  had  set  the  rifle 
aside  and  was  kneeling,  her  hands  clasped  in  her  ex- 
citement. Now  she  could  see  only  his  head  and  the 
torch  held  high;  he  looked  up  and  smiled  at  her  and 
waved  the  faggot.  Then  she  saw  only  the  dimly  burn- 
ing fire  and  the  hand  clutching  it.  And  dimmer  and 
dimmer  grew  his  light  until  she  strained  her  eyes  to 
catch  a  glint  of  it  and  could  not  tell  if  it  were  being 
extinguished  for  want  of  clean  air  or  if  he  were  very, 
very  far  below  her. 

"Jim!"  she  called. 

"All  right,"  his  voice  floated  back  to  her. 

He  had  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stone  stairway; 
his  feet  shifting  back  and  forth  informed  him  that  he 
was  on  a  rock  floor  that  was  full  of  inequalities  and 
that  pitched  steeply  ahead  of  him.  His  fire  was  almost 
out,  deteriorating  into  a  mere  smudge  curling  up  from 
dying  embers.  The  air  was  bad,  thick  and  heavy; 
breathing  was  difficult.  He  looked  up  and  made  out 
the  dim  square  by  which  Betty  knelt.  He  could  go  a 
little  further  without  danger,  since  if  the  air  grew 
worse  he  could  still  turn  and  run  back  up  the  steps. 
The  floor  seemed  to  be  pitching  still  more  steeply. 
Fearful  of  a  precipice  or  a  pit  and  a  fall,  he  went  down 
on  his  hands  and  knees  and  crept  on.  Thus  he  held 
his  poor  torch  before  him  and  thus  he  made  a  first 
discovery.  The  smoke  was  drifting  steadily  into  his 
face.  And  that  meant  a  current  of  air. 

Still  crawling,  he  pressed  forward  eagerly,  sniffing 


A  ROCK  MOVES  253 

the  air.  But  he  relaxed  none  of  his  caution;  the  floor 
underneath  still  pitched  steeply  and,  it  seemed  to  him, 
grew  steeper.  Then  his  light  began  to  brighten;  the 
embers  glowed  and  when  he  blew  on  them,  broke 
again  into  flame.  He  looked  up;  he  could  not  see  the 
square  of  light  above  now.  Evidently  he  was  passing 
into  some  sort  of  wide  tunnel  or  lengthy  chamber. 
Dimly  he  could  descry  walls  on  either  side  of  him. 
Ahead  was  only  black  emptiness ;  underfoot  the  uneven 
floor  seeming  to  grow  smoother  and  to  slant  still  more 
abruptly  downward. 

"I'd  better  go  easy/'  he  told  himself  grimly.  "If  a 
man  started  sliding  here  I  wonder  where  he'd  land!" 

Decidedly  the  air  was  better.  He  filled  his  lungs 
and  stopped  where  he  was,  moving  his  torch  above  his 
head,  lowering  it,  peering  about  him  on  all  sides.  At 
last  he  made  out  that  a  dozen  steps  further  on  there 
was  a  level  space  about  which  the  walls  were  squared 
so  as  to  give  the  effect  of  a  small  room.  He  drew 
nearer  step  by  step  and  again  was  forced  to  kneel  and 
then  feel  his  way  forward  with  his  hands  for  the  floor 
under  him  grew  steadily  steeper  so  that  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  keep  from  sliding  down  the  incline.  When  he 
^aw  his  way  sufficiently  clearly  he  did  slide  the  last 
three  or  four  feet.  And  now,  as  again  his  torch  flared 
and  the  air  freshened  in  his  nostrils,  he  saw  that  which 
put  an  eager  excitement  in  his  blood.  The  small  room 
had  every  appearance  of  an  ancient  storeroom.  He  saw 
objects  piled  on  the  floor,  objects  of  strange  designs, 
cups  and  pitchers  and  vessels  of  various  shapes.  He 
caught  one  up  and  it  was  heavy.  He  clanked  two  to- 
gether and  the  mellow,  bell-like  sound  had  the  golden- 
note. 

"Solid  gold,"  he  muttered.  And  as  something  upon 
one  of  the  vessels — it  was  a  drinking  goblet  of  ornate 


.-254  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

design — caught  the  light  and  shone  back  at  him  like 
imprisoned  fire,  "Encrusted  with  precious  stones!" 

He  put  the  things  down  and  looked  further.  There 
was  a  big  chest  As  his  foot  struck  it  it  burst  asunder 
and  tumbled  its  contents  to  the  floor.  From  the  dis- 
ordered heap  there  shone  forth  from  countless  places 
the  colorful  glow  of  jewels.  He  passed  to  another 
chest,  a  smaller  one  placed  as  in  a  position  of  honor 
upon  a  square  tablet  of  rock.  He  held  his  torch  dose 
and  looked  in;  he  thrust  in  his  hand  and  withdrew  it 
filled  with  pearls.  Even  he,  no  connoisseur  like  Bar- 
low, would  have  staked  his  life  on  their  genuineness. 
They  were  of  many  sizes  but  more  large  ones  among 
them  than  small;  their  soft,  rich  loveliness  dimmed 
even  those  of  Zoraida's  wearing. 

"A  man  could  carry  a  million  dollars  out  of  here  in 
his  hands!" 

He  went  on.  But  what  he  held  in  his  hand  he  thrust 
into  his  pocket  as  he  went.  The  remembrance  of  Zo- 
raida's rattlesnakes  came  to  him  abruptly.  Thus  he 
moved  with  renewed  caution  and  thus  he  was  saved 
from  a  misadventure.  For  even  so  he  almost  stepped 
to  a  fall.  Between  two  heaps  of  tumbled  articles  was 
a  square  hole,  sheer  and  black,  several  feet  across.  He 
stooped  over  it.  The  air  came  up  with  a  rush.  At  first 
he  could  see  only  a  little  way.  Then  he  made  out  that 
the  shaft  went  straight  down  only  a  few  feet  and  then 
slanted  away  in  a  great  chute  like  the  floor  down  which 
he  had  already  come,  only  so  much  steeper  that  he  knew 
had  he  fallen  there  would  have  been  no  return  possible 
for  him.  To  what  eventual  landing  place  would  he 
Jiave  plunged?  For  a  moment  or  so  his  eyes  strained 
in  vain  into  the  gloom.  Slowly  faint  and  then  growing 
detail  rewarded  him.  It  was  but  a  small  section  offered 
him  because  of  the  angling  of  the  tunnel.  But  before 


A  ROCK  MOVES  255 

a  watch  could  have  ticked  ten  times  he  knew  into  what 
place  he  would  have  fallen,  into  what  regions  his  glance 
had  penetrated.  The  light  was  dim  down  yonder  but 
he  knew  that  he  was  looking  down  into  the  gardens  of 
the  golden  king  of  Tezcuco. 

"Another  way  into  the  hidden  place,  and  one  that 
Zoraida  herself  knows  nothing  of,"  he  thought.  "If 
a  man  took  this  drop  and  then  the  slide,  he'd  land  with 
the  breath  jolted  out  of  him  but  there  is  shrubbery  to 
fall  on  and  it  wouldn't  kill  him.  But  in  there  he'd 
stay !  There  would  be  no  climbing  back  up  the  slippery 
chute." 

He  withdrew  and  looked  about  him  again.  Expect- 
ing pitfalls,  he  took  no  single  step  without  making  sure 
first.  He  crossed  the  chamber  and  upon  the  further 
side  he  came  to  a  second  pit  and  a  second  tunnel.  This 
like  the  first  was  steep  and  smooth ;  this  also  gave  him 
a  glint  of  light  at  the  further  end.  The  light  was  dim ; 
he  made  out  that  the  distant  mouth  of  the  tunnel  was 
obscured  by  a  tangle  of  brush  and  scrub  trees. 

"Another  underground  garden  ?"  he  wondered.  "Or 
the  outside  world?" 

He  filled  his  lungs  with  the  air  flowing  upward. 
He  fancied  that  it  had  a  fresher,  sweeter  smell,  that 
there  was  the  wholesomeness  of  sunlight  in  it 

"It  would  be  a  joke,"  was  his  quick  thought,  "if 
there  were  a  way  out  for  us  here  while  Rios  watches 
the  canon  above!" 

It  was  then  that  there  came  to  him,  faint  from  far 
above,  Betty's  scream.  He  whirled  and  ran.  Again  he 
heard  her  screams,  echoing  wildly.  As  he  stumbled 
on  there  came  to  him  the  muffled  sound  of  a  rifle- 
shot 


CHAPTER  XXI 

HOW     ONE     RETURNS     UNWILLINGLY      WHITHER      HE 
WOULD   WILLINGLY    ENTER    BY   ANOTHER    DOOR 

AGAIN  and  again  as  he  ran  Kendric  shouted  to  Betty 
that  he  was  coming.  Then  at  last,  after  an  agony  of 
fear  and  silence,  he  heard  her  call  in  answer.  He 
stumbled  but  ran  on.  When  he  came  where  he  could 
see  the  square  of  light  marking  the  hole  which  led  to 
the  level  where  she  was,  he  caught  his  first  glimpse  of 
Betty.  She  was  standing  by  the  opening,  tense  to  the 
finger  tips  that  were  tight  about  the  rifle.  He  sped  up 
the  steps  and  to  her  side.  And  he  was  treated  to  the 
sight  of  Ruiz  Rios,  lying  white-faced  on  the  floor,  a 
hand  at  his  shoulder  and  that  hand  dyed  red.  Beside 
him,  where  it  had  fallen,  was  his  revolver. 

"I — I  shot  him !"  Betty  gasped. 

"And  serves  him  right,"  cried  Kendric  heartily.  He 
took  the  gun  from  her  hands  and  strode  over  to  Rios 
while,  at  last,  Betty's  face  was  hidden  by  her  shaking 
hands.  "So  you're  on  the  job,  are  you?" 

Rios  looked  sick  and  miserable.  But  slowly,  as  he 
lifted  his  black  eyes  to  the  man  standing  over  him  the 
old  evil  fires  played  in  them.  He  stirred  -a  little  and  lay 
back. 

"My  shoulder  is  broken,"  he  groaned. 

"You're  in  luck  to  be  alive,"  Kendric  told  him  stern- 
ly. "What  do  you  want  here?" 

"I'll  bleed  to  death!"  Quick  fright  sent  a  shiver 

256 


BY  ANOTHER  DOOR  257 

through  him.    <cFor  the  love  of  God  stop  the  blood  for 


me." 


Kendrick  could  scarcely  do  less  than  look  at  the 
wound.  Presently  he  straightened  up  with  a  grunt  of 
disgust. 

"It's  only  a  flesh  wound/'  he  said  coolly.  "The  bone 
isn't  even  touched  and  it's  a  clean  hole.  You'll  last  for 
a  lot  of  devilment  yet." 

Rios  sat  up.  He  felt  of  his  hurt  with  tender  fingers 
and  slowly  the  fear  went  out  of  his  look  and  his  old 
craft  and  hate  came  back. 

"You've  found  the  treasure — here/'  he  said.  "You 
will  have  to  talk  with  me  before  you  touch  it,  senor." 

"You  talk  big,  Rios,"  snapped  Kendric  angrily.  "It 
strikes  me  that  you  are  just  now  in  no  position  to  dic- 
tate. You  should  thank  your  stars  if,  presently,  we  let 
you  go  about  your  business.  Whether  or  not  we  have 
found  treasure  does  not  concern  you." 

So  intent  was  he  upon  Rios,  so  occupied  with  con- 
sidering what  was  to  be  done  with  him,  that  he  did  not 
note  who  it  was  who  had  come  to  stand  in  the  narrow 
cleft  between  them  and  the  entrance  from  the  canon 
side.  But  Betty,  her  hands  dropping  from  her  horrified 
face  saw. 

"Oh/J  cried  Betty.    "We  are  lost!" 

Then  he  saw  that  following  Rios  had  come  Zoraida 
and  that  she  stood  and  looked  at  them,  her  eyes  filled 
with  mockery  and  triumph. 

"Who  is  it  that  speaks  of  what  shall  be  done  with 
that  which  rightfully  is  Zoraida's?"  she  demanded,  her 
voice  ringing  out  boldly.  "And  you  two,  who  thought 
to  escape  me,  I  have  you  in  a  trap !" 

Kendric  swung  his  rifle  about  so  that  the  muzzle  was 
towards  her.  His  eyes  hardened. 


258  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

"If  we  have  to  shoot  our  way  out  of  this,  we're 
going  free/'  he  told  her  shortly. 

Zoraida's  only  answer  came  quickly,  unexpectedly, 
before  he  could  step  forward.  Her  hand  went  to  her 
bosom;  out  came  her  silver  whistle;  a  blast  shrilled 
'forth  from  it,  loud  and  penetrating. 

"Twenty  of  my  men,  all  armed,  hear  that,"  she 
said  defiantly.  "They  are  just  below.  Listen  and  you 
will  hear  them  coming." 

The  sound,  first  of  men's  voices  somewhere  outside, 
then  of  rattling  stones  under  running  feet,  told  that 
Zoraida  spoke  truly.  Kendric  heard  and  for  an  in- 
stant was  struck  motionless  with  indecision.  The  en- 
trance was  narrow  and  he  could  make  a  fight  for  it — • 
there  was  Betty  to  think  of,  behind  him  but  in  the  path 
of  glancing  bullets — there  was  Rios,  wounded  but 
treacherous — there  was  Zoraida — there  was  the  treas- 
ure below  and  he  had  no  mind  to  see  it  snatched  from 
under  his  eyes — 

Then  the  one  chance  presented  itself  to  him,  clear 
and  imperative. 

"Rios,"  he  commanded,  "down  you  go  through  that 
hole  or  I  swear  to  God  I'll  blow  your  brains  out! 
Quick!  And  Zoraida,  you  with  him."  He  sprang 
upon  her  and  dragged  her  with  him,  shoving  her  to- 
ward the  opening  in  the  floor.  He  took  time  then  to 
whirl  and  fire  one  shot  along  the  narrow  way  which 
Zoraida's  men  must  come,  confident  that  they  would 
pause,  if  only  for  an  instant.  "Down,  Rios.  Down, 
Zoraida!" 

A  sort  of  fury  looked  out  of  his  eyes  and  even  Betty 
drew  back  from  him  fearfully.  He  grasped  Rios  by 
the  shoulder  and  the  Mexican  seeing  the  look  in  his 
eyes  made  no  resistance.  Had  he  fought  back  he  would 
have  been  killed  and  he  knew  it.  He  went  down  the 


BY  ANOTHER  DOOR  259 

steps.  Zoraida  would  have  held  back  but  again  Ken- 
dric's  hand,  rough  on  her  arm,  sent  her  forward  and, 
rather  than  fall,  she  was  forced  to  Riosrs  heels.  Ken- 
dric  fired  again  along  the  cleft.  Then  he  began  knock- 
ing loose  the  stones  which  held  the  lever-rock  back. 
When  only  one  stone  kept  the  boulder  in  place,  he 
called  sharply  to  Betty : 

"Down  we  go  with  them.  Then  111  knock  that  stone 
out  from  below  and  we'll  have  time  to  breathe  before 
they  come  on  us." 

"But,"  exclaimed  Betty,  "can  we  lift  it  again  from 
below?" 

"God  knows,"  he  returned.  "I  think  so.  But  I 
don't  know  that  well  have  to;  I  think  there's  another 
way  out.  Hurry." 

Voices  were  calling  excitedly  from  without.  Plainly 
the  men  taking  Zoraida's  pay  would  in  time  steel  them- 
selves to  making  an  entrance,  but  just  as  plainly  they 
saw  death  in  store  for  some  of  them  and  hesitated. 
It  struck  Kendric  that  their  delay  would  give  him  time 
for  one  other  thing  and  that  that  other  thing  would 
mean  much  more  time  gained  later  on.  He  scooped  up 
handful  after  handful  of  dirt  and  poured  it  into  the 
lever-hole  in  the  boulder,  filling  it  even  with  the  surface. 
Thus,  it  would  not  be  readily  detected  and  might  never 
be  noted.  Then,  snatching  tip  his  rifle  and  the  bag  of 
food,  he  ran  down  the  steps  with  Betty.  A  thrust  with 
his  rifle  barrel,  and  a  quick  jerk  back,  knocked  the 
wedge  stone  free  and  saved  him  his  gun.  The  boulder 
toppled  back  into  place ;  the  stairway  and  tunnel  below 
were  plunged  into  absolute  darkness. 

Kendric  caught  Betty's  hand. 

"This  way,"  he  told  her.  "It's  straight  going  and 
no  danger  for  a  while.  Rios,  Zoraida!  Stand  where 


26o  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

you  are  and  wait  for  us  or  I'll  start  shooting  wild. 
Where  are  you?" 

"Here,"  growled  Rios,  his  voice  indicating  that  he 
had  gone  no  great  distance. 

"And  Zoraida?" 

Zoraida  did  not  answer.  Kendric  went  on  a  step 
or  two  and  then  struck  a  match.  By  its  short-lived 
light  he  made  out  Zoraida  standing  close  to  Rios. 
Then  the  flame  burned  out. 

"Straight  ahead/'  commanded  Kendric.  When  there 
was  no  sound  of  a  step  being  taken,  he  drew  Betty's 
hand  through  his  arm  so  as  to  have  both  of  his  hands 
free  and  went  forward. 

"I  can  hardly  breathe,"  whispered  Betty.  He  felt 
her  hand  tighten  on  his  arm.  "It  is  getting  terribly 
steep  underfoot " 

He  came  to  where  Rios  was  and  set  the  rifle  barrel 
in  the  small  of  his  back.  Rios  cursed  bitterly  but 
moved  OIL  Kendric's  hand  found  Zoraida's  arm  and 
gripped  it  tightly. 

"We're  all  together  in  this,"  he  said  sharply.  "And 
don't  start  your  old  favorite  knife  act.  This  is  no 
time  for  foolery." 

Zoraida  moved  on.  But  again  she  set  her  whistle  to 
her  lips  and  thereafter  she  called  out  loudly  to  her  men, 
commanding  them  to  follow  swiftly. 

"They  won't  hear  you,"  said  Kendric.  "And  they 
couldn't  obey  you  this  time  anyhow.  Hurry;  we'll  all 
stifle  if  we  don't  get  out  of  this  foul  air.  Rios,  give 
me  some  matches;  mine  are  getting  short." 

Rios,  without  comment,  having  as  little  love  as 
another  for  the  uncertainty  of  the  dark  about  him,  did 
as  he  was  commanded.  He  also  saved  half  of  his  box 
and  began  striking  them  himself.  And  thus  they  went 
on,  all  of  them  save  Kendric  wondering.  Making  the 


BY  ANOTHER  DOOR  261 

last,  steepest  descent,  they  stood  huddled  together  in 
the  treasure  chamber. 

"Here,"  said  Kendric,  releasing  Zoraida,  "we  have 
fresh  air.  Here  we  can  talk.  And,  if  we  are  sensible 
people,  a  new  day  can  begin  for  all  of  us  here." 

Ruiz  Rios's  wound  must  have  been  even  less  severe 
than  Kendric  had  supposed  it.  For  now  the  Mexican 
seemed  utterly  to  have  lost  consciousness  of  it.  He 
was  striking  fresh  matches;  he  stooped  and  picked  up 
something  at  his  foot;  a  little  gasp  broke  from  him. 
He  tossed  it  down,  caught  up  something  else. 

"Gold!"  he  muttered.     "Gold  everywhere!" 

Zoraida  looked  about  her,  seeming  unmoved.  Her 
eyes  followed  Rios  contemptuously,  roved  away  about 
the  room,  tarried  only  briefly  with  the  heaped-up 
treasure,  sped  to  Kendric  and  to  Betty. 

"You  are  fools,  fools!"  she  taunted  them.  "All 
thanks,  Senor  Kendric,  for  having  led  me  straight  to 
that  for  which  I  have  been  looking  all  my  life." 

Rios  had  come  back  to  her  side,  both  hands  full. 

"Zoraida,"  he  said  swiftly,  "let  us  talk  reason  as 
the  American  says.  We  have  this!"  He  held  up  his 
hands;  his  eyes  gloated.  "Let  them  have  their  lives 
and  go,  so  that  they  take  nothing  in  their  hands.  Look 
at  this!  Here " 

His  words  trailed  off  abruptly  in  a  scream  of  terror. 
He  had  moved  only  a  trifle  as  he  spoke,  he  had  taken  a 
step  backward  between  the  two  high  heaps  of  treasure 
where  the  pit  was.  He  was  falling — he  threw  out  his 
arms,  clutching  wildly.  In  a  flash  he  was  gone  from 
sight.  But  not  alone.  For  his  hand,  seeking  to  save 
him,  had  caught  at  Zoraida  and  she  was  snatched  back, 
overbalanced,  drawn  down  with  him.  Her  scream  rose 
above  his  cry  of  terror.  Both  vanished  and  Jim  and 


262  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

Betty  stood  alone,  looking  into  each  other's  wide  eyes. 

"Do  you  think — they  are  dead?"  faltered  the  girl. 

They  went  to  the  hole  and  looked  down.  The  view 
which  Kendric  had  seen  before  slowly  disentangled  it- 
self from  the  darkness.  They  saw  nothing  of  those 
who  had  fallen. 

"It  would  mean  the  short  faH  here,"  said  Kendric 
musingly,  "the  steep  slide  and  no  doubt  another  drop 
at  the  end-  We  wouldn't  be  able  to  see  them  at  first. 
But  someway,  I  don't  believe  they  are  dead!" 

He  did  not  explain  then ;  it  would  take  too  long  and 
they  had  their  own  salvation  to  work  out  But  here 
was  his  thought:  Zoraida  had  dropped  back  into  the 
gardens  of  the  golden  king.  He  did  not  believe  she 
would  be  able  to  climb  up  this  way  again.  And  he  did 
not  believe  that  she  would  have  with  her  the  many  keys 
needed  to  open  the  way  she  knew.  It  impressed 
him  that  here  might  be  the  judgment  of  a  just 
God — Zoraida  immured  for  all  time  in  the  heart  of 
ancient  Mexico.  Zoraida  with  her  priests  and  young 
men  and  children  whom  her  stern  decree  had  im- 
prisoned here.  Zoraida  and  Ruiz  Rios  together  in  the 
place  of  hidden  treasure. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

REGARDING  A  NECKLACE  OF  PEARLS  AND  CERTAIN 
PLANS  OF  TWO  WHO  WERE  MEANT  TO  BE  ONE 

FROM  afar,  reaching  them  only  faintly,  came  the 
sounds  of  men's  voices,  Zoraida's  men  clamoring  above, 
mystified  and  with  ample  cause. 

"It  may  be  our  chance  is  now,  not  tonight,"  said 
Kendric.  "Although  it's  but  a  little  way  from  the 
house  some  of  them,  if  not  all,  will  have  ridden;  their 
horses  will  be  down  in  the  canon.  If  we  can  slip  out 
this  way  and  come  to  the  horses  while  they're  looking 
£  or  us  up  there " 

"This  way?"  Betty  for  an  instant  wondered  if  he 
meant  to  follow  Zoraida  and  Rios. 

"There  is  another  way,"  he  told  her.  "Come. — But 
first,  we'll  not  go  empty  handed." 

He  began  a  quick  rummaging  among  the  ancient 
fchests. 

"Hurry,"  pleaded  the  girl.  "What  do  we  want  with 
treasure?  They  may  find  us  at  any  second  Oh, 
hurry!" 

"Coming,"  he  answered  "But  here  are  wings  to 
fry  with."  She  saw  him  putting  a  number  of  small 
objects  into  his  pockets.  He  moved  to  another  point 
,and  she  could  not  see  what  he  was  doing,  could  only 
guess  that  still  he  was  stuffing  something  into  the  pro- 
vision bag  and  further  cramming  his  pockets.  Just  then 
there  was  in  Betty's  soul  no  thirst  for  wealth,  just  the 
tmighty  yearning  for  the  open  country  and  flight  and 
the  peace  of  safety  afar. 

263 


264  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

''Here  I  am."  Jim  was  again  at  her  side.  He  caught 
her  arm.  "This  way." 

He  led  her  to  that  other  pit  giving  entrance  to  the 
second  tunnel.  At  another  time  Betty  might  have  hesi- 
tated to  slip  down  into  it;  now  she  was  eager  for  any- 
thing that  gave  the  vaguest  hope  of  flight.  For  the 
faint  far  voices  still  clamored  and  she  feared  that  the 
hounds  that  hunted  in  Zoraida's  wake  might  find  the 
secret  of  the  boulder  and  roll  it  back  with  many  hands 
and  rush  down  upon  them. 

But  Kendric  held  her  back  while  he  first  went  down. 
He  gripped  the  edges  of  the  pit  with  his  hands  and 
lowered  himself  to  the  length  of  his  arms  and 
dropped.  It  was  but  a  short  fall  and  he  landed  safely 
and  steadied  himself  and  managed  to  save  himself  from 
going  down  the  slide  by  clutching  at  the  rock  wall. 
Betty  handed  down  the  rifle  and  bag,  then  lowered  her- 
self and  he  caught  her  in  his  arms.  And  then,  in  no 
little  uncertainty  and  not  without  grave  dread  of  what 
dangers  they  might  encounter,  they  went  on. 

The  slide  was  steep  and  yet  by  going  very  guardedly, 
lying  face  down  at  times  and  inching  down  cautiously, 
they  made  a  slow  descent.  The  tunnel  grew  steadily 
smaller  as  they  progressed;  their  bodies  shut  off  the 
light.  The  terrible  thought  presented  itself  to  Kendric 
that  when  they  came  to  the  outlet  it  might  be  too  small 
for  them  to  pass  through ;  and  that  to  return  up  the  tun- 
nel was  a  task  which  would  present  its  difficulties.  So, 
when  they  came  to  a  place  where  Betty  could  cling  on 
and  keep  from  slipping,  he  called  to  her  to  wait  while  he 
went  on. 

The  time  had  come  when  his  rifle  was  an  encum- 
brance; he  needed  both  hands  to  keep  from  slipping. 
He  had  had  the  forethought  to  turn  the  muzzle  down-* 
ward,  since  Betty  was  above  him.    Now  he  craned  his 


A  NECKLACE  OF  PEARLS  265 

neck  and  sought  to  peer  down  along  his  body.  Far 
away,  somewhere,  was  a  glint  of  sunlight,  small  but 
full  of  promise.  He  saw,  as  he  had  seen  before,  a 
tangle  of  brush.  He  wondered  if  it  were  a  clump  of 
bushes  on  a  little  flat?  Or  if  they  were  shrubs  cling- 
ing to  some  steep  face  of  cliff?  When  at  last  he  came 
to  the  mouth  of  this  chute — if  it  were  wide  enough 
for  a  man's  body  to  pass  through — would  the  man  have 
reached  safety  or  would  he  be  precipitated  through 
space  and  down  a  fifty  foot  fall  of  rock? 

"The  bushes  ought  to  stop  the  rifle,"  he  decided. 
"At  any  rate  the  time  has  come  when  I  need  both 
hands."  And  he  let  it  slide  past  him  and  sought  to 
watch  it  as  it  clattered  along  the  incline.  But  he  saw 
nothing  of  it  in  the  dim  passage  until  it  struck  the 
fringe  of  bushes.  Then  it  crashed  through  and  was 
gone — without  telling  him  how  and  where!  The  bag, 
a  knot  tied  in  it,  he  sent  down  after  the  gun. 

His  misgivings  were  considerable  but  he  went  on. 
He  called  out  to  Betty :  "It  looks  all  right.  Hold  on  till 
I  call,"  and  began  inching  downward  again.  With  his 
feet  he  sought  to  judge  the  slope  below  him.  It  seemed 
to  be  growing  steeper.  Still  he  went  on  and  down.  He 
caught  at  any  unevenness  in  the  rock  he  could  lay  hand 
upon,  lowering  himself  to  the  length  of  his  arm,  grop- 
ing for  handhold  and  foothold  everywhere.  Then  a 
handhold  to  which  he  had  entrusted  his  weight  betrayed 
him,  the  tiny  sliver  of  stone  scaled  off  and  he  began  to 
slip.  He  clutched  wildly  but  his  body  gained  fresh 
momentum.  He  heard  Betty  shriek  above  him.  He 
had  a  vision  of  himself  plunging  down  the  cliffs.  Then 
he  knew  that  he  had  struck  the  bushes,  had  broken 
through,  was  rolling  down  a  steep  slope,  rolling  and 
rolling. 

The  breath  jolted  out  of  him,  he  was  brought  up  with 


266  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

a  jerk  in  another  clump  of  bushes,  wild  sage  in  a  little 
level  space.  He  hastily  jumped  up  and  began  to 
scramble  back  up  toward  the  tunnel's  mouth.  He  could 
not  see  it  from  below,  he  could  see  only  the  patch  of 
brush  which,  since  it  was  directly  above  him,  must  con- 
ceal it.  He  saw  his  rifle  where  it  stood  on  end,  the 
muzzle  jammed  between  two  rocks.  He  wanted  to  call 
to  Betty  but  did  not  dare,  not  knowing  how  close  some 
of  Zoraida's  men  might  be.  Betty  could  not  hold  on 
there  forever;  she  would  slip  as  he  had  done  or,  fright- 
ened terribly,  by  now  she  might  be  seeking  frenziedly 
to  make  her  way  back  to  the  treasure  chamber. 

But  as  it  happened  Betty  was  to  make  the  descent 
with  less  violence  than  Kendric's.  She  had  thought 
that  surely  Jim  had  been  snatched  away  from  her  to  a 
broken  death  below ;  she  had  gone  dizzy  with  sick  fear ; 
she  had  struggled  for  a  securer  grip — and  she,  too,  had 
slipped.  Down  she  sped,  half  fainting.  But  some- 
where her  wide  sash  caught  and  held  briefly,  letting  her 
slip  again  before  her  fingers  could  find  a  hold,  but 
breaking  the  momentum  of  her  progress.  So,  when 
she  was  shot  out  into  the  open,  a  few  yards  above 
Kendric,  the  brush  all  but  stopped  her.  And  then, 
as  she  was  slipping  by  him,  Kendric  caught  her  and 
held  her. 

Betty  sat  up  and  stared  at  him  incredulously.  Then 
there  came  into  hkr  eyes  such  a  light  as  Jim  Kendric 
had  never  seen  in  eyes  of  man  or  woman. 

"I  thought  you  were  dead,"  said  Betty  simply.  "And 
I  did  not  want  to  live." 

He  helped  her  to  her  feet  and  they  hurried  down 
the  slope.  He  caught  up  his  rifle,  merely  grunted  at 
the  discovery  of  a  sight  knocked  off,  found  near  it  the 
bag  of  food  and  treasure,  and  led  the  way  down  into 


A  NECKLACE  OF  PEARLS  267 

the  canon.  A  glance  upward  showed  him  no  sign  of 
Zoraida's  men. 

"There  are  the  horses,"  whispered  Betty. 

Down  in  the  bed  of  the  ravine  were  a  dozen  or  more 
saddled  ponies.  They  stood  where  their  riders  had 
left  them,  their  reins  over  their  heads  and  dragging  on 
the  ground. 

"Run!"  said  Kendric.  "If  we  can  get  into  saddle 
before  they  see  us  we're  as  good  as  at  home!" 

Hand  in  hand  they  ran,  stumbling  along  the  slope, 
crashing  through  the  brush.  But  as  they  drew  nearer 
and  the  ponies  pricked  up  their  ears  they  forced  them- 
selves to  go  slowly.  Kendric  caught  the  nearest  horse, 
tarrying  for  no  picking  and  choosing,  and  helped  Betty 
up  into  the  saddle.  The  next  moment  he,  too,  was 
mounted.  He  looked  again  up  the  mountainside.  Still 
no  sign  of  Zoraida's  men.  A  broad  grin  of  high  satis- 
faction testified  that  Jim  Kendric  found  this  new  ar- 
rangement of  mundane  affairs  highly  to  his  liking. 

"We'll  drive  these  other  ponies  on  ahead  of  us,"  he 
suggested.  "Until  they're  a  good  five  miles  off.  And 
then  we'll  see  how  fast  a  cowpony  can  run!" 

So,  herding  a  lot  of  saddled  horses  ahead  of  them, 
reins  flying  and  soon  putting  panic  into  the  animals, 
Jim  and  Betty  rode  down  into  the  valley.  They  looked 
down  to  the  big  adobe  house  and  saw  no  one ;  the  place 
slept  tranquilly  in  the  late  afternoon  sun.  They  passed 
the  corrals  and  still  saw  no  one.  If  any  of  her  men 
had  not  followed  Zoraida,  they  were  lounging  under 
cover.  The  maids  would  be  about  the  evening  meal 
and  table  setting,  in  the  patio  or  in  the  house. 

Straight  across  the  valley  they  drove  the  ponies  and 
there,  in  the  first  foothills  scattered  and  left  them. 
Then  they  settled  down  to  hard  riding,  both  praying 


268  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

mutely  that  when  they   came  to  the  gulf   and  the 
beach  they  would  find  the  Half  Moon  awaiting  them. 

The  stars  were  out  when  they  came-  to  the  beach 
where  only  a  few  days  ago  Kendric  and  Barlow  had 
landed.  And  there,  at  anchor,  rode  the  Half  Moon. 
They  saw  her  lights  and  they  made  out  the  hulk  of  her. 
Kendric  shouted  and  fired  his  rifle.  Almost  imme- 
diately came  an  answering  hail,  the  melodious  voice 
of  Nigger  Ben.  They  saw  a  lantern  go  down  over  the 
side,  they  watched  it  bob  and  dance  and  made  out  pres- 
ently that  it  was  coming  toward  them.  They  heard 
Nigger  Ben's  voice,  chanting  monotonously,  as  he 
pulled  at  the  oars  of  the  small  boat 

"Howdy,  Cap'n,  howdy!"  cried  Ben  joyously.  He 
took  in  the  small  figure  which  had  dismounted  at  Ken- 
dric's  side  and  ducked  his  head  and  included  her  in  his 
greetings  with  a  "Howdy,  Miss/'  And  then,  looking 
in  vain  for  another  member  of  the  party:  "Where's 
Cap'n  Barlow?" 

"Let's  get  on  board,  Ben,"  answered  Kendric.  "I'll 
tell  you  there." 

So  they  stepped  into  the  dingey  and  pushed  off  and 
rowed  back  to  the  Half  Moon. 

"There's  a  gent  here  says  he's  a  frien*  of  your'n, 
Cap,"  said  Ben.  "Ah  dunno.  Anyhows,  he's  been 
here  all  day  an'  we're  watchin'  he  don't  make  no  mis- 
chief." 

They  went  up  over  the  side  and  Kendric  showed 
Betty  straightway  to  the  cabin  that  was  to  be  hers. 
Then  he  turned  wonderingly  to  Ben,  He  could  only 
think  of  Bruce,  since  it  wasn't  Barlow 

And  Bruce  it  was.  The  boy  came  forth  from  the 
shadows,  standing  before  Kendric  looking  at  once  de- 
jected and  defiant  and  shamefaced. 


A  NECKLACE  OF  PEARLS  269 

"I  was  a  damn*  fool,  Jim,"  he  said  bluntly.  "Forget 
it,  if  you  can,  and  take  a  passenger  back  to  the  States 
with  you.  Or  tell  me  to  go  to  hell — and  I  guess  I'll 
tuck  my  tail  between  my  legs  and  go." 

Kendric's  hand  went  out  impulsively  and  he  cried 
with  great  heartiness: 

"Forget  it,  boy.— What  about  Barlow?" 

"Barlow's  like  a  crazy  man,"  said  Bruce.  He  spoke 
quickly  as  though  eager  to  get  through  with  what  he 
had  to  say.  "After  that  cursed  game  of  cards  he  got 
the  same  sort  of  a  message  I  got;  we  were  to  wait, 
each  in  his  own  room,  for — for  her.'*  He  hesitated; 
Kendric  understood  that  it  hurt  him  even  to  refer  to 
Zoraida.  '"We  waited  a  long  time.  Then  something 
happened  which  I  know  little  about ;  I  guess  you  know 
all  of  it.  At  any  rate,  when  she  burst  in  on  us — we  had 
gotten  tired  waiting  and  were  in  the  patio — she,  too, 
was  like  one  gone  mad.  We  had  heard  the  shooting 
outside  but  when  we  started  to  run  out  some  of  her 
men  threw  guns  on  us  and  held  us  back.  She  came 
running  in,  terribly  excited.  When  I  tried  to  speak  she 
cursed  me,  called  me  a  fool,  told  me  that  she  had  never 
loved  any  but  one  man  and  that  that  man  was — was 
you.  Then  she  swore  that  she  was  going  to  see  you 
dead  and  Betty  Gordon  dead  with  you.  I  guess  I  came 
to  my  senses  a  little  at  that." 

"And  Barlow?"  insisted  Kendric.  Bruce  had 
paused,  was  staring  off  into  the  night,  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  to  go  on. 

"I  had  two  words  with  Barlow  when  she  left  us.  He 
looked  ready  for  murder  and  just  snapped  out  that  he 
was  going  to  stay  until  he  lined  his  pockets.  Rios  came 
in.  He  told  us  you  were  on  the  run,  trying  to  make 
it  down  here.  He  offered  to  get  me  and  Barlow  clear ; 
he  seemed  anxious  to  have  us  both  gone.  He  promised 


270  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

us  weM  be  dead  in  twenty- four  hours  if  we  stayed;  he 
tipped  his  hand  enough  to  say  that  there  was  loot  to  be 
had  and  he  meant  to  have  his  half  and  didn't  care  what 
happened  to  us  so  long  as  we  got  out  of  the  way.  I 
came,  hoping  that  you'd  break  through  and  get  here. 
I  told  Barlow  I  was  coming.  He  just  shrugged  his 
shoulders  at  that  and  said  he'd  stay;  if  we  could  square 
for  the  rent  of  the  Half  Moon  in  San  Diego  we  could 
have  her.  Otherwise,  for  God's  sake  to  sink  her  in 
the  ocean  and  let  the  old  man  know.  And  off  he  went, 
looking  for — for  her." 

"You've  had  a  hard  deal,  Bruce."  Kendric  put  a 
kindly  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder.  "But  you'll  come 
alive  yet.  I've  made  a  haul  today ;  just  how  big  I  won't 
know  until  we  get  home.  But  enough,  I'll  gamble  to 
stake  you  to  a  new  start.  Now,  let's  get  going.  And 
good  luck  to  poor  old  Barlow.  It's  his  game  to  play  his 
way." 

They  slipped  out  into  the  gulf,  Nigger  Ben  and 
Philippino  Charlie  content  to  accept  the  explanation 
Kendric  gave  them  of  Barlow's  absence.  Bruce,  taci- 
turn and  moody,  went  to  the  stern  and  stood  looking 
back  toward  the  black  line  of  the  receding  coast  until 
long  after  darkness  blotted  it  out.  Kendric  went  to 
Betty's  cabin  and  rapped 

"Will  you  come  for  a  moment  to  the  main  cabin?" 
he  asked. 

When  she  came  he  had  a  lamp  on  the  table.  He  shut 
the  door  and  locked  it  Then,  without  a  word  between 
them,  he  began  emptying  his  pockets.  She  saw  him 
pile  up  a  great  number  of  little  square  bars  that  clanked 
musically. 

"Solid  gold,"  he  said  gravely. 

Then  he  poured  forth  the  pearls.    There  was  strings 


A  NECKLACE  OF  PEARLS  271 

and  loops,  necklaces  and  broad  bands  made  of  many 
strings  laced  together.  They  shone  softly,  gloriously 
there  in  the  swaying  cabin  of  the  Half  Moon.  The 
finest  of  them  all  fashioned  into  a  superb  necklace  he 
threw  with  a  sudden  gesture  about  Betty's  throat. 

"And  on  top  of  all  that — we're  headed  for  home!" 
said  Kendric, 

"Home!"  Betty's  eyes  shone  more  gloriously  than 
the  pearls. 

"And  thus  ends  our  little  camping  trip.  Tell  me, 
Betty,  haven't  you  any  desire  for  a  real  camping  trip 
in  our  own  mountains  ?  That  place  that  I  know,  where 
the  little  hidden  valley  is  and  the  lake •" 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Betty. 

Pearls  and  gold  heaped  on  the  table,  pearls  about 
Betty's  throat,  and  they  talked  of  pack  and  trail  and 
a  little  green  lodge  to  be  made  of  fir  boughs. 


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to  Everything — 

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There  is  a  Grosset  &  Dunlap  Book 
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JACKSON  GREGORY'S  NOVELS 

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DAUGHTER  OF  THE  SUN 

A  tale  of  Aztec  treasure  —  of  American  adventurers,  who  seek  it  —  of 
Zoraida,  who  hides  it. 

TIMBER-WOLF 

This  is  a  story  of  action  and  of  the  wide  open,  dominated  always  by 
the  heroic  figure  of  Timber-  Wolf. 

THE  EVERLASTING  WHISPER 

The  story  of  a  strong  man's  struggle  against  savage  nature  and  humanity* 
and  of  a  beautiful  girl's  regeneration  from  a  spoiled  child  of  wealth  into  at 
courageous  strong-willed  woman. 

DESERT  VALLEY 

A  college  professor  sets  out  with  his  daughter  to  find  gold.  They  meet 
a  rancher  who  loses  his  heart,  and  becomes  involved  in  a  feud. 

MAN  TO  MAN 

How  Steve  won  his  game  and  the  girl  he  loved,  is  a  story  filled  with 
breathless  situations. 

THE  BELLS  OF  SAN  JUAN 

Dr.  Virginia  Page  is  forced  to  go  with  the  sheriff  on  a  night  journey 
into  the  strongholds  of  a  lawless  band. 

JUDITH  OF  BLUE  LAKE  RANCH 

Judith  Sanford  part  owner  of  a  cattle  ranch  realizes  she  is  being  robbed 
by  her  foreman.  With  the  help  of  Bud  Lee,  she  checkmates  Trevor's  scheme. 

THE  SHORT  CUT 

Wayne  is  suspected  of  killing  his  brother  after  a  quarrel.  Financial  com- 
plications, a  horse-race  and  beautiful  Wanda,  make  up  a  thrilling  romance. 

THE  JOYOUS  TROUBLE  MAKER 

A  reporter  sets  up  housekeeping  close  to  Beatrice's  Ranch  much  to  her 
chagrin.  There  is  "  another  man  "  who  complicates  matters, 

SIX  FEET  FOUR 

Beatrice  Waver  ly  is  robbed  of  $5,000  and  suspicion  fa&tens  upon  Buck 
Thornton,  but  she  soon  realizes  he  is  not  guilty. 

WOLF  BREED 


No  Luck  Drennan,  a  woman  hater  and  sharp  of  tongue,  finds  a  match 
Wol 


in  Ygerne  whose  clever  fencing  wins  the  admiration  and  love  of  the  "  Lone 
lf." 


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PETER  B.  KYNE'S  NOVELS 

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THE  ENCHANTED  HILL 

A  gorgeous  story  with  a  thrilling  mystery  and  a  beautiful  girl. 
NEVER  THE  TWAIN  SHALL  MEET 

A  romance  of  California  and  the  South  Seas. 

CAPPY  RICKS  RETIRES 

Cappy  retires,  but  the  romance  of  the  sea  and  business,  keep 
calling  him  back,  and  he  comes  back  strong. 

THE  PRIDE  OF  PALOMAR 

When  two  strong  men  clash  and  the  under-dog  has  Irish  blood 
in  his  veins — there's  a  tale  that  Kyne  can  tell ! 

KINDRED  OF  THE  DUST 

Donald  McKay,  son  of  Hector  McKay,  millionaire  lumber  king, 
falls  in  love  with  "  Nan  of  the  sawdust  pile,"  a  charming  girl  who 
has  been  ostracized  by  her  townsfolk. 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  GIANTS 

The  fight  of  the  Cardigans,  father  and  son,  to  hold  the  Valley 
of  the  Giants  against  treachery. 

CAPPY  RICKS 

Cappy  Ricks  gave  Matt  Peasley  the  acid  test  because  he  knew 
it  was  good  for  his  souL 

WEBSTER:  MAN'S  MAN 

A  man  and  a  woman  hailing  from  the  "  States,"  met  up  with  a 
revolution  while  in  Central  America.  Adventures  and  excitement 
came  so  thick  and  fast  that  their  love  affair  had  to  wait  for  a  lull 
in  the  game. 

CAPTAIN  SCRAGGS 

This  sea  yarn  recounts  the  adventures  of  three  rapscallion  sea- 
faring men. 

THE  LONG  CHANCE 

Harley  P.  Hennage  is  the  best  gambler,  the  best  and  worst 
man  of  San  Pasqual  and  of  lovely  Donna. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,    PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


RUBY  M.  AYRES*    NOVELS 

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THE  LITTL'ST  LOVER 


CANDLE  LIGHT 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  HEART 


THE  ROMANCE  OF  A  ROGUE 


THE  MATHERSON  MARRIAGE 


RICHARD  CHATTERTON 


A  BACHELOR  HUSBAND 


THE  SCAR 


THE   MARRIAGE  OF  BARRY  WICKLOW 


THE  UPHILL  ROAD 


WINDS  OF  THE  WORLD 


THE  SECOND  HONEYMOON 


THE  PHANTOM  LOVER 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,  PUBLISHERS,   NEW  YORK 


THE  NOVELS  OF  TEMPLE  BAILEY 

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"  Although  my  ancestry  is  all  of  New  England,  I  was  born 
in  the  old  town  of  Petersburg,  Virginia.  I  went  later  to 
Richmond  and  finally  at  the  age  of  five  to  Washington,  D. 
C.,  returning  to  Richmond  for  a  few  years  in  a  girl's  school, 
which  was  picturesquely  quartered  in  General  Lee's 
mansion. 

PEACOCK  FEATHERS 

The  eternal  conflict  between  wealth  and  love.  *  Jerry,  the  idealist  who 
is  poor,  loves  Mimi,  a  beautiful,  spoiled  society  girl. 

THE  DIM  LANTERN 

The  romance  of  little  Jane  Barnes  who  is  loved  by  two  men. 

THE  GAY  COCKADE 

Unusual  short  stories  where  Miss  Bailey  shows  her  keen  knowledge 
of  character  and  environment,  and  how  romance  comes  to  different  people. 

THE  TRUMPETER  SWAN 

Randy  Paine  comes  back  from  France  to  the  monotony  of  every-day 
affairs.  But  the  girl  he  loves  shows  him  the  beauty  in  the  common-place. 

THE  TIN  SOLDIER 

A  man  who  wishes  to  serve  his  country,  but  is  bound  by  a  tie  he  can- 
not  in  honor  break — that's  Derry.  A  girl  who  loves  him,  shares  his  humilia- 
tion and  helps  him  to  win — that's  Jean.  .Their  love  is  the  story. 

MISTRESS  ANNE 

A  girl  in  Maryland  teaches  school  and  believes  dial  work  is  worthy 
service.  Two  men  come  to  the  little  community  ;  one  is  weak,  the  other 
strong,  and  both  need  Anne. 

CONTRARY  MARY 

.    An  old-fashioned  love  story  that  is  nevertheless  modem. 

GLORY  OF  YOUTH 

A  novel  that  deals  with  a  question,  old  and  yet  ever  new — how  far 
should  an  engagement  of  marriage  bind  two  persons  who  discover  they  no 
longer  love. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,          PUBLISHERS,          NEW  YORK 


EMERSON    HOUGH'S   NOVELS 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.     Ask  for  Grosset  and  Dunlap's  list 


THE  COVERED  WAGON 

NORTH  OF  36 

THE  WAY  OF  A  MAN 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  OUTLAW 

THE  SAGEBRUSHER 

THE  GIRL  AT  THE  HALFWAY  HOUSE 

THE  WAY  OUT 

THE  MAN  NEXT  DOOR 

THE  MAGNIFICENT  ADVENTURE 

THE  BROKEN  GATE 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  COWBOY 

THE  WAY  TO  THE  WEST 

54-40  OR  FIGHT 

HEART'S  DESIRE 

THE  MISSISSIPPI  BUBBLE 

THE  PURCHASE  PRICE 


GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,    PUBLISHERS,    NEW  YORK 


EDGAR   RICE    BURROUGH'S 
NOVELS 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.     Ask  for  Grosset  and  Dunlap's  list 

BANDIT  OF  HELL'S  BEND,  THE 

CAVE  GIRL,  THE 

LAND  THAT  TIME  FORGOT,  THE 

TARZAN  AND  THE  ANT  MEN 

TARZAN  AND  THE  GOLDEN  LION 

TARZAN  THE  TERRIBLE 

TARZAN  THE  UNTAMED 

JUNGLE  TALES  OF  TARZAN 

AT  THE  EARTH'S  CORE 

THE  MUCKER 

A  PRINCESS  OF  MARS 

THE  GODS  OF  MARS 

THE  WARLORD  OF  MARS 

THUVIA,  MAID  OF  MARS 

THE  CHESSMEN  OF  MARS 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,    PUBLISHERS,  NEW  YORK 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


17Jan'62DC 

REG  D  LD 

JAN  2  6  196? 

». 



LD  21A-50m-8  '61 
(Cl795slO)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


YB  32817 


